


Don't Tell Romeo

by grxntxire



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare, Romeo et Juliette - Presgurvic
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Multi, bencutio - Freeform, false depictions of tybalt being an ass because lets be real hes actually just a sweet baby angel, mostly gays, possibly gangs, so much dialogue im really sorry about it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-02 03:51:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4044820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grxntxire/pseuds/grxntxire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Romeo and Benvolio Montague and Mercutio Prince have been best friends since elementary school. They go to high school together and pull pranks on Tybalt Capulet, the biggest asshole at the school, a member of the family that Romeo's hates, and has a dark history with Mercutio. Things are fine until everyone starts falling in love with cousins they aren't supposed to and bringing up things they swore they wouldn't talk about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"That is truly fucking awful, Romeo," Mercutio said distastefully, staring at the sloppy graffiti his friend was currently spraying onto Tybalt's car. Or trying to spray, he should say, because the majority of it was on his hand instead of the car. "You're supposed to aim the part with the hole at the car, dumbass. It's all over your hand."

  
"Always a critic. You know, I think you're just not cultured enough to understand the complexity of my art," he said, flourishing the can.

  
"Oh, yeah, it takes a real genius to come up with 'Capulet Sux'," Mercutio scoffed.

  
"Brevity is the soul of wit," Romeo mused, flourishing the can again.

  
"It looks like it was written by a six year old," he said honestly, because it did. The writing was very squiggly because Romeo had shaky hands and kept waving the can all around. Mercutio kept an eye on the can, knowing that if Romeo jerked around it could end up all over him. It was already dripping down Romeo's hand because he was covering half the opening with his finger.

  
"You know what-"

  
"No, you're right, I take it back. A six year old could definitely do better than that."

  
"Whatever, Mercutio, it was your idea anyways."

  
"When I said we should spray paint his car, I meant me and maybe Benvolio would do the spraying, and you would stand watch."

  
"You always get to do the fun stuff," he whined, stamping his foot and turning around.

  
"That's because you say you don't care," Mercutio countered, putting his hands on his hips and giving Romeo a look. Every time Mercutio thought of something to do- throw water balloons full of paste at Tybalt's windows, cover the Capulet mailbox in syrup, steal Lady Capulet's dry cleaning- Romeo said he wasn't interested. Romeo was the only one in his family who didn't hate the Capulets with a burning passion. He didn't really care for them or how they treated his family, but he knew the blame was to be shared. Mercutio, though not a Montague like Romeo, hated the Capulets enough for the both of them. Maybe not all the Capulets, but definitely Tybalt, who was terrible enough for the whole family.

  
"Cause I don't care," he said with distaste, scrunching up his face. He started shaking the can.

  
"Watch that can," Mercutio advised.

  
"Alright, Mom," Romeo scoffed, continuing to shake the can. "Why'd you buy the cheap kind of paint? I think the thingy is stuck, it's not coming out."

  
"Really? I've never had problem with thingies getting stuck, but I'm sure you'd know all about it."

  
"I will spray you," Romeo warned, spinning around and pointing the can at Mercutio threateningly. Mercutio wasn't going to tell him that he was covering the hole with his finger and it probably wouldn't reach him from over there. Instead he threw his hands up in surrender with a laugh and Romeo turned back around.

  
"Please just let me do it-"

  
"No! I'm doing it!"

  
"You're botching it, there's no effort even, you're- Romeo, please, just give me the can. You don't even care, you said so yourself."

  
"But I don't have to exactly care to be a vandal, do I?" Romeo said, flourishing the can and beginning to shake it again. "Isn't that the whole idea of being a-" he stopped talking as the can in his hand suddenly went off on him. He had squeezed the top of the can while shaking it and it had shot a burst of shiny black spray paint all over his arm and torso. "Shit! Mercutio!"

  
Mercutio doubled over, cackling like a maniac. He threw the can at Mercutio's head, which he was oblivious to on account of his hysterics, and Romeo began trying to shake the paint off his arms. "Asshole!"

  
"You're not- supposed to- press on the-" he wheezed, trying to catch his breath. "Dumbass!"

  
"I'm covered in this shit, man!"

  
"I know! It's fucking hilarious!" he cried, managing to stand up straight. He wiped at his eyes. "Oh, oh God."

  
"Glad you think this is funny! My distress is not for your amusement!"

  
"What I wouldn't give for Benvolio to be here- oh, God,"

  
"Why, so you could make fun of together?" Romeo said darkly, glaring at him.

  
"Yes," he wheezed.

  
"You'd wish he were here even if I wasn't miserable-"

  
"-You're always miserable-"

  
"-I swear you like him more than me."

  
"You're right, I'll just leave you here and go find Ben," Mercutio said haughtily, meaning it as a joke but suddenly thinking it didn't sound like such a bad idea.

  
"Mercutiooooo!" He whined, trying to wipe the wet metallic paint off his shirt. "It's everywheeeeeeere!"

  
"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, alright. Quit your whining," he gave in, grabbing his backpack off the pavement and retrieving a shirt. He'd used it earlier to snap at Benvolio and also to mop up a suspicious stain on his biology desk, but Romeo didn't need to know that. "Here," he tossed it at Romeo's face.

  
"Is this your gym shirt?" He said as he inspected the grey piece of cotton.

  
"Uh, yeah."

  
"Ew," he held it away from his face.

  
"It's that or be black and shiny, which is exclusively my job," he grinned widely, standing up straight and poking a finger into his cheek. Black and shiny, that was Mercutio. And, he noted, fairly messy. His hands were stained with pencil lead, his hair was a mess, and he was all sweaty from standing in this parking lot for fucking EVER waiting on Romeo to finish his 'art'. Romeo was messy now as well, so at least Benvolio could tease them both for it later.

  
"Fair point," he sighed, taking his shirt off over his head and using it to wipe the remaining paint off his arm.

  
"And hurry up, school lets out in like five minutes," Mercutio bent over and picked up the can of paint that had been chucked at his head (rude). He shook it and began finishing Romeo's 'art' that so far only said 'CAPULeT' in all capital letters except the e. This kid was definitely not helping with any more of the vandalism endeavors, at least not the ones that required writing.

  
"I could've finished it," Romeo said weakly as he pulled Mercutio's shirt on.

  
"I know you could've, buddy."

  
"Shut up," he snorted. "Let's go wait for Benvolio."

  
Mercutio tossed the can on the floor and wiped his hand on Romeo's face. "Okay little buddy," he said sweetly.

  
"Ewww, I just got all that shit off!" Romeo laughed, shoving Mercutio. The bell rang and they both scrambled to grab their bags and rush to the Junior lot where they had parked- or, where Benvolio parked and they were going to meet him. They managed to get there before anyone saw them, but they were still laughing and catching their breath when Benvolio showed up a few minutes later.

  
"Having fun, are we?" He asked with an amused look. He always looked vaguely amused, like he found everything mildly hilarious, as well as very smug, like he was constantly plotting. Mercutio had, upon first meeting Benvolio, thought he was making fun of him somehow. Now he knew that it was just Benvolio- condescending, faintly amused and highly mischievous.

  
"I painted Tybalt's car," Romeo boasted.

  
"How thoughtful of you."

  
"Oh, sure," Mercutio snorted. "Banksy over here took 20 minutes to write 'Capulet'."

  
"I'm an artist!" Romeo protested.

  
"And he got paint all over himself," Mercutio continued. "Ruined his shirt."

  
"I can he see that," Benvolio smiled, and Romeo began rubbing fiercely at the black smudge on his cheek from Mercutio's hand. "I was wondering why you were wearing Mercutio's shirt. This is must less scandalous than what I was imagining."

  
"Oh, don't get jealous now, Benvolio dearest," Mercutio said in a mockingly seductive voice.

  
"Of course not, _darling_ Mercutio," he replied in kind, putting the emphasis on 'daaahling'. "Though you are very messy today, sweet, been rolling around in the bushes?"

  
"Not without you, dear heart," he crooned. "I'm not that messy," he added, dropping the voice. "Look better'n you."

  
"I smell better."

  
"I- sound better."

  
"Ha! I call bullshit on that, I've heard your karaoke," Romeo interjected as he walked around to the back seat and got in.

  
"Fine, I- what else is left, there's five senses, right, uh-"

  
"I taste better," Benvolio said with finality.

  
"Oh, care to prove it, mister Montague?" Mercutio said, sticking his tongue out and wagging it at Benvolio.

  
"No thank you, mister Prince," Benvolio smiled.

  
"Aww, come on Benny," he said, advancing on Benvolio with his tongue stuck out.

  
"No, Mercutio, not right now, people can see you- No, I'm serious, back off," he warned, backing away and then running when Mercutio began chasing him around the car.

  
"You two can play later, but right now I think we'd better-" Romeo began, sticking his head out the window and stopping them on the drivers side.

  
"Don't try and save your cousin, Romeo, it's too late," Mercutio said with a point of his finger.

  
"Mercutio, you better keep that dirty tongue away from-"

  
"MONTAGUE!" Tybalt screeched from across the parking lot.

  
"Oh, that's our cue," Mercutio affirmed, jumping over the hood and swinging into the passenger's seat. Benvolio rolled his eyes as he sat on the drivers side.

  
"You're such a show off, Prince."

  
"And you're such a bummer, Montague, with your strict opposition to licking. No fun at all, I swear."

  
"Oh, like you could have any fun without me."

  
"I have plenty of fun on my own," Mercutio said, flashing a grin.

  
"With your 400 girlfriends, right?" Romeo said sarcastically.

  
"Whatever, casanova," Mercutio scoffed. He glanced over at Benvolio and felt the need to clarify- "I haven't got 400 girlfriends. It just seems like that many to you because you've got none."

  
"Oh, so how many do you have, or have you lost track?" Romeo sneered (and really it was funny, because he still looked 13 and so any time he made a face he looked like a grumpy child despite being 16 years old).

  
"Mercutio has no girlfriends, my dear Montagues, none whatsoever," Mercutio said dramatically, throwing his arms wide. "Although I'm sure THEY would let me use my tongue," he rolled his head over to the left to stare purposefully at Benvolio.

  
"Let the tongue thing go, that's disgusting," he glanced down at Mercutio's arm stretched across him, "Oh, good thing I didn't put on my seatbelt, you've got that covered."

  
"Why of course, if I can't lick you and I wasn't your seatbelt who would be?"

  
"I could stand to have one of the varsity girls do the licking, as well as the pinning-"

  
"Uh!" Mercutio exclaimed in false indignation, moving his hands to clutch his heart. "That hurts, Ben, really, I'm shocked and offended. This is it!" he cried, throwing an arm across his forehead in distress. "This is the end of our friendship!"

  
"Then you can walk."

  
"I can suffer your presence for a little longer, I suppose."

  
"I dunno, we might be better off walking- this fucking line is going nowhere," Romeo said. Every time he said 'fuck' Mercutio had to stifle a laugh- he sounded like a middle schooler, trying to be cool. One of Romeo's charms was his naiveté.

  
"Yeah, cos somebody graffitied Tybalt Capulet's car and he's probably up there throwing a big fit," Benvolio stared at Mercutio pointedly. Mercutio threw his hands up.

  
"Hey, don't look at me, this was all Romeo."

  
"Your idea!" Romeo protested.

  
"Nuance," Mercutio said with a wave of his hand. Benvolio smiled.

  
"We're still not moving!" Romeo huffed.

  
"Indeed we aren't. Thank you for the update, Captain Obvious," Benvolio said with faux sincerity.

  
"You're an asshole," Romeo muttered.

  
"That's also obvious, tell me something everyone doesn't already know," Mercutio said.

  
"You're a dick," Benvolio replied.

  
"Well I don't believe I asked for your input, but if I'm a dick and you're an asshole then _whatever_ are we waiting for?"

  
"Lubricant and proper timing," Benvolio said without missing a beat. Mercutio cackled.

  
"I can't believe you," Romeo sighed.

  
"I can't believe it's not butter," Benvolio added.

  
"I can't believe we're still not moving!" Mercutio groaned loudly.

  
"Maybe if we stare at the car in front of us it will get uncomfortable and leave like girls do when Mercutio's around," Benvolio suggested.

  
"Ooohhhh! Get wrecked!" Romeo called, hands cupped around his mouth.

  
"For the last time, I don't-"

  
"WE'RE MOVING!" Benvolio exclaimed triumphantly.

  
"YAY!" Romeo cheered.

  
"Finally. Was starting to think I'd die in this car," Mercutio sighed.

  
"You still might," Benvolio said, throwing Mercutio a faux-menacing look. "We only waited like five minutes, drama queen," Benvolio added when he turned back to the road.

  
"Five minutes of my life I'll never get back."

  
"How come I'm in the backseat?" Romeo asked suddenly as Benvolio gunned it out of the parking lot (he was a seriously reckless driver, it was a miracle he still had a permit). Mercutio turned to face Romeo.

  
"Because it's Benny's car, and I'm his favourite-" he winked at Benvolio, who rolled his eyes again, he was fond of that, "-and besides, Tybalt has less advantage to shoot at your head from back there."

  
"What's he gonna do? Assassinate me?"

  
"He's done worse. I wouldn't put it past him."

  
"He's not all bad," Romeo argued.

  
"How would you know?"

  
"How would you? You don't even know him."

  
"I know him enough," Mercutio said with distaste. Benvolio shot him a sideways look and, yeah, he knew what that was for, and he wasn't gonna say anything in front of Romeo.

  
"I bet that's what he says about us," Romeo offered.

  
Mercutio started to say something like 'No, Romeo, I know exactly what he says about us and why he says it, the dirty bastard,' but Benvolio was still giving him the sideways concerned-warning look and dammit if that wasn't enough to shut him up, so he just shrugged. "Whatever, buddy."

  
"Mercutio," Romeo warned. "Don't start."

  
Benvolio snickered and Romeo kicked the back of his seat.

  
"I hate you both," he muttered.

  
"Oh, Romeo, don't be like that in front of your father," Mercutio said sweetly, patting Benvolio's hand.

  
"Why am I the father? I'm not cut out for fatherhood, especially not for that little shit!" he jabbed a thumb at Romeo.

  
"You have to be father because I'm daddy," Mercutio said with an eyebrow wiggle. Romeo made a gagging noise.

  
"Oh, you are, are you?" Benvolio said amusedly as he pulled into their driveway. Romeo immediately threw the door open and dove out when they parked.

  
"Yes, and daddy needs a smooch," Mercutio said in a voice that was about six octaves deeper than his actual voice, his mockingly sultry tone. Benvolio went white and opened his door.

  
"No, Mercutio-" he tried, but Mercutio got out too and jumped over the hood to his side of the car. "Mercutio don't you dare, you cut it out- Stop-"

  
"Oh, but there's no one to see us here, my looove," he crooned as he stepped toward Benvolio with purpose.

  
"I'm here!" Romeo cried, throwing his arms in the air as he walked up the driveway.

  
"Shut up or you're next!" Mercutio called, and Romeo dashed for the front door. Mercutio grinned and stepped toward Benvolio again.

  
"You keep away from me, Prince, don't you dare," he pleaded as he backed up a step. They played this game every day and somehow Benvolio never ran straight to the door instead of backing away slowly. Mercutio liked to think that he didn't really want to get away from him.

  
"Come to daddy."

  
"Don't call yourself that."

  
"Come here," he stepped forward.

  
"Why would I do that?" he stepped back.

  
"Because you love me!" Mercutio cried as he chased Benvolio up the long driveway.

  
"Why must you do this every day?!" Benvolio whined as he ran, but he glanced behind him to make sure Mercutio was there, and he was smiling. He always was.

  
Benvolio arrived at the door first and threw it open, sliding on the pink rectangle carpet and dashing into the kitchen. Mercutio followed him in and sure enough, Romeo was sitting on the counter eating a Poptart like he did every day. The kitchen itself was huge- rich people love huge kitchens. Lady Montague (which is what Romeo's mother insisted on being called) never cooked, but the kitchen staff alone consisted of eight people. The color scheme was gold and pink, as everything in the house was, and there was an expensive collection of knives above the sink with golden stainless steel blades and pink gilded handles. They were hideous and Mercutio loved them. He climbed onto the (pink, golden topped) island in the middle of the kitchen as Benvolio threw open the fridge (massive, pink, golden handles, golden magnets holding up pictures).

  
"Benny, throw me a Pepsi," Mercutio asked, and Benvolio tossed him one as he continued to scan the fridge. "Thanks. Romeo, give me some cereal from the cabinet."

  
"Which one is it in again?" Romeo asked, reaching for a random on to his left and peeking in, seeing only pots and pans (pink and gold, of course).

  
"Dude, you live here," he laughed.

  
"So do you, basically. Kinda. Most of the time. Where's the fucking cereal?" He asked again, helplessly throwing open the perfect pink cabinets and rummaging through them as if somehow the cereal could be hiding behind (pink) cups or glass pans.

  
"The one above your empty head, dumbass," Benvolio said without looking up. Romeo sneered at the top of Benvolio’s head before opening the cabinet and throwing the box of Lucky Charms at Mercutio.

  
"Thanks, buddy," he said as he grabbed a handful and picked out the marshmallows. Benvolio sighed and shut the fridge, hopping up onto the island next to Mercutio. "Aww, did the Lady of the house forget your carrots again?"

  
"More like she ‘forgot’ to tell one of the fifty thousand people she's got waiting on her to buy them for me. Again," he moped.

  
"Just eat the regular ones that she does buy," Romeo said around a mouthful of Poptart. He reached into the box and grabbed another package. He went through a box a day.

  
"No. I like the baby carrots, the big ones are disgusting, and they're not small, and I hate them."

  
"Poor baby, here," Mercutio offered the handful of non-marshmallow Lucky Charms, and Benvolio accepted them. Mercutio always ate the marshmallows, and Benvolio ate the actual cereal pieces. They developed this system in the sixth grade and it had never failed them. Romeo thought it was weird because, 'the cereal is supposed to be eaten together, when you separate it you're not getting the intended effect of the cereal, and also just eating the cereal part is disgusting Benvolio'.

  
"Thank you," Benvolio muttered as he picked one out of his palm.

  
"You guys wanna help me with my homework? I got some Spanish thing and a math sheet," Romeo asked before snapping his fourth Poptart in half.

  
"I hate math, I'll take Spanish," Benvolio offered.

  
"You're in algebra, right?" Mercutio asked.

  
"Geometry," Romeo said with a mouthful of Poptart. Yeah, and Mercutio was the gross one.

  
"Oh. I probably won't be any help, then," Mercutio said quietly as he pushed a marshmallow in his mouth. And he really hated the looks they gave him, those stupid fucking looks of concern (why they felt so bad over his stupidity was a mystery), so he pushed of the island and walked out of the room. "Thank God, I get to play Xbox while you two do math."

  
"Who says you get to play Xbox?" Romeo cried, hopping off the counter and following him.

  
"Yeah, and who says I’m doing his math?!" Benvolio laughed, grabbing the cereal and jogging up behind them to the staircase.

  
"I'm lucky I'm so stupid, or I'd be stuck doing all Romeo's work like an obedient dog! Right, Benny?" He smirked over his shoulder and winked at Benvolio.

  
"I'm the dog?! You're dead, Prince!" He laughed, chasing Mercutio up the stairs and throwing marshmallows at his head from the box.

  
"Guys, don't- Mom hates mess," Romeo protested half-heartedly, suppressing a laugh as he chased behind them.

  
"We know!" Benvolio called as he cornered Mercutio in Romeo's room.

  
"That's why she pays people to clean up after us!" Mercutio added, shoved into the corner and using his hands to deflect the oncoming storm of cereal. "Stop using my marshmallows, no fair!"

  
"Oh, boo hoo."

  
Mercutio dove for the box and landed on his side as Romeo entered.

  
"Take that!" Mercutio grabbed a handful of cereal and threw it in Benvolio's face. Benvolio grabbed a book off the shelf behind him and hit Mercutio in the side with it. "Oh, the hardcover! Why the hardcover!" He groaned as he threw another handful of cereal.

  
"Guys! Please don't trash my room," Romeo said, standing next to his bed and crossing his arms. Mercutio sat up and Benvolio set the book he was grabbing back down.

  
"Sorry," they muttered.

  
"Without me!" He grabbed a pillow and threw it at Mercutio while simultaneously leaping at Benvolio to take him to the ground. Mercutio wished he'd thought of that one, because by looking at the current situation it was obvious Benvolio was useless on his back, like a turtle. Well, not useless, he was kind of worming around, but Romeo had his wrists and his feet were pinned by Romeo's knees. Benvolio started trying to buck Romeo off and Mercutio was suddenly very uncomfortable.

  
"Uh, hey geniuses, don't you have some homework to do?" He coughed, looking away. Benvolio freed one of his legs and kicked Romeo off.

  
"Romeo has some homework to do-" he started as he stood up.

  
"If I can ever stand again," Romeo groaned, grabbing his stomach and rolling on his side.

  
"-But I have some fresh Prince ass to be kicking at Halo," he finished as he sat down on the floor next to Mercutio.

  
"Fresh Prince, is that because I'm black, because if so I'm very-" Mercutio started, grabbing the Xbox controllers off a pile of possibly month old clothes behind him.

  
"Oh, shut up," Benvolio laughed, reaching over Mercutio for the Lucky Charms box. "Don't be fresh with me, Will Smith."

  
"That one was racially motivated," Mercutio accused, exhaling when Benvolio leaned back up. Benvolio being close to him hadn't really started bothering him until last year, after the Tybalt situation (which they weren't allowed to talk about ever, never, seriously, please, just don't talk about it), and now he just stayed at least four inches away from him whenever possible. Or he tried to, but they always seemed to end up right next to each other and he didn't want to make things weird by moving.

  
"Yeah, whatever. You wanna be player one this time?" Benvolio asked, grabbing a controller off Mercutio's knee.

  
"I suppose, if it'll ease your guilty conscience," he sighed dramatically. Benvolio punched him in the arm. "I'm only joking. Your conscience may not be weighted due to your Portuguese-ity, but it should be weighted by the fact that you caused me bodily harm."

  
"Portuguese-ity isn't a word, and I didn't hit you that hard," he scoffed.

  
"I didn't mean just now, I meant when you threw the fucking Iliad at me earlier and dislocated my hipbone."

  
"Really?"

  
"I don't know, it might've been the collected works of Oscar Wilde or something, I didn't have time to check the title when it slammed against my side-"

  
"No, did it really hurt?" he pressed with concern, and Mercutio looked over at him. His eyes had that look like they did when he talked about sucking at math, except now he looked like he was upset, and that was just twisted. Why did he get so protective all the time, this is ridiculous, he can't just suddenly get serious and concerned over random stuff like math and hip bruises.

  
"I'm fine," he said quietly, and then, because Benvolio was still staring at him, he laughed and said, "As if you could hurt me."

  
"Oh, why, because of my Portuguese-ity?" he scoffed. "Pick up your controller or I'll just start shooting you," he added.

  
"Go ahead, the only way you'll manage to beat me is if you cheat," he laughed.

  
“You wish! My conscience will be completely clear when I smear your guts all over the map.”

  
“I’m pretty sure that constitutes a hate crime, and I will be pressing charges.”

  
“Oh yeah? Press this.”

  
“Okay you know what, fuck you and your grenade launchers, you're spawn trapping and you're a cheater and I hate you, and press that!” he exclaimed.

  
And he tried to keep a straight face when Benvolio tried to subtly examine his side when he reached behind them to grab one of Romeo's Poptarts.

  
But it was really hard not to smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! This is my first full length fic and the first one im publishing so please let me know what you think!!


	2. Chapter 2

English was not Mercutio's favourite part of the day, but unfortunately it was Romeo's, which was making it impossible to talk him into skipping.

 

 

"Romeo, please," Mercutio whispered from the desk behind him.

 

 

"No way," Romeo hissed over his shoulder, "We did enough yesterday."

 

 

"We barely did anything yesterday! He'll have painted over it by now," Mercutio pleaded.

 

 

"Take Benvolio, I'm not doing it," Romeo said fiercely, and that was the end of that conversation. Mercutio sighed, knowing that Romeo was a lost cause. He slid his phone into his lap and tried texting Benvolio.

 

 

'wanna mess w tybalt? rome wont leave eng class :('

 

 

His phone buzzed with a response almost immediately. Benvolio always answered Mercutio's texts right away, and he wasn't going to pretend that didn't make his chest feel warm.

 

 

'romeo is a loser. what did you have in mind for us?'

 

 

He grinned.

 

 

'well i wont say what i have in mind for u benny dearest, but ive got 6 containers of strwbrry syrup in my locker and they want to go in the backseat of tybalts car'

 

 

He tapped his fingers on the desk waiting for a response. Maybe the Benny jokes were getting to be a little bit too much. It had been half a minute, he usually didn't take that long to-

 

 

His phone buzzed again.

 

 

'y do u have that much syrup on hand and where am i meetin u? im p sure tybalt put his car smwhr else 2day cos of what u did ystrday'

 

 

He exhaled.

 

 

'i bought them for our dear friend tybalt. my locker, 5 minutes. we'll find his car' 

 

 

His phone buzzed. 

 

 

'dont get caught' 

 

 

He grinned. As if. 

 

 

"Mister Prince, what is so interesting about your lap?" His teacher suddenly demanded. What was his name? Mr... Francis? Something like that. 

 

 

"Well, I don't think that's proper for classroom discussion, but if you really must know-" he started. A lot of the girls started giggling. Dick jokes for the win. 

 

 

"Mister Prince. I'm going to have to insist that you give me your phone."

 

 

"Phone? What phone? I just have to pee."

 

 

"Really," and that was a seriously agitated response coming from the guy who didn't have to do anything but teach for eight hours. How rude.

 

 

"Yeah, I really gotta go to the bathroom, Mr..."

 

 

"Lawrence," Romeo whispered.

 

 

"Mr. Lawrence," Mercutio finished.

 

 

"Go ahead, you've interrupted enough of our lesson."

 

 

Mercutio winked at Romeo and shot out the door. Easy peasy.

 

 

Benvolio was waiting at his locker when he got there, which was unsurprising and a little bit satisfying. It was nice knowing he had been waiting there.

 

 

"What took you so long?" Benvolio asked not unkindly.

 

 

"Teacher," Mercutio offered as an explanation, twisting his lock around. "Why didn't you open it, you know my combination."

 

 

"Who says I didn't?" Benvolio moved a hand from behind his back, holding the plastic bag full of strawberry syrup bottles. Mercutio laughed and grabbed it from him, dropping his lock and heading down the hall.

 

 

"You know where he parked?" Mercutio asked, grabbing a bottle out of the bag and popping the cap.

 

 

"Probably in the senior lot, since that's on the opposite side of the school and what are you doing?" He asked, stopping Mercutio. He was holding the bottle of syrup above his mouth. "Absolutely not, put it down."

 

 

"But-" 

 

 

"You don't even like syrup. Drop it."

 

 

"Fine," he muttered, lowering the bottle and snapping the cap on. "I just wanted to see if it still made me sick."

 

 

"Why would you want to experiment with things that make you throw up? What is wrong with you?" he asked, holding open the hall door following Mercutio out. "Senior lot's this way."

 

 

"I hate strawberry syrup."

 

 

"I know."

 

 

"It's disgusting."

 

 

"I know."

 

 

"Why would you ever need strawberry flavored syrup when there's already chocolate syrup, there's _literally_ no point."

 

 

"I know," Benvolio assured him, and Mercutio smiled because they might've had this conversation a few times before. "Now pick up the pace, if the bell rings and we're out here I'm not saving your ass," which was completely untrue, but they could stand to walk faster.

 

 

"Care to race me, Benny dear?"

 

 

"You think you can beat me, really, with those short little legs of yours?"

 

 

"Oh, that's it," he threw the bag of syrup at Benvolio and took off through the senior lot, Benvolio following suit not far behind. He beat him to the car by about ten seconds. "Tiny legs, huh?" he huffed.

 

 

"Shut up," Benvolio laughed, also breathing heavily. "Uh, Mercutio?"

 

 

"What?"

 

 

"What's your plan for getting the syrup in the car?"

 

 

"What?" he asked, his head snapping up to look at the car. He groaned. "Oh, no."

 

 

"No plan for the windows?"

 

 

"Might've slipped my mind," he sighed, running a hand over his face. Stupid, nobody leaves their windows down!

 

 

"I bet we can still get it in," Benvolio said slowly, walking around the car.

 

 

"Yeah," he scoffed, "Not unless your gonna-"

 

 

Benvolio swung the bag at a back window and shattered it.

 

"-do that."

 

 

"He can just buy a new one."

 

 

"I can't believe you just did that."

 

 

"Coming from the guy who glued dildos to his locker last month? Relax."

 

 

"You just broke his window with syrup," he shook his head, amazed. That was aggressive for Benvolio. He didn't just smash in people's windows for no reason- and he was realizing that Benvolio was giving him the look and he did have a reason and the reason was that they both hate Tybalt a lot.

 

 

"Help me," he thrust a bottle of syrup towards Mercutio, who walked around and grabbed it. "Don't throw up."

 

 

"I'm not gonna throw up," he muttered as he started pouring the disgusting, red sugar water into Tybalt's back seat. They spent the next few minutes silently dumping syrup in the car.

 

"You ever had strawberry syrup, Benny?"

 

"Yes," Benvolio laughed.

 

"It's disgusting."

 

"It does seem like I've heard you say that before."

 

"Nasty stuff. Like cough syrup, but worse."

 

"Is that why we're putting it in Tybalt's backseat?"

 

"Yep. Both of them are terrible and make me sick."

 

"Me too," Benvolio nodded, pouring the last of the syrup out and throwing the bottle on the floor. Mercutio liked how serious he sounded when he said that, because Benvolio was usually a really calm guy but when Tybalt stuff came up he gave off this hard, intense vibe. He would clench his jaw and stare far off like he was imagining murdering Tybalt. It was kinda hot. Benvolio wasn't hot, Benvolio was Romeo's cousin, but the brooding distance staring was a little hot. And now Mercutio could actually feel his face catching on fire. Great.

 

"Mercutio?" Benvolio asked, waving a hand in front of his face. He used to get concerned when Mercutio spaced out, but now it was just commonplace.

 

"What?"

 

"Seventh period bell's gonna ring in a minute."

 

"Ugh, we have to go back?" He groaned.

 

"No," Benvolio said, "But if you don't wanna get caught we have to get moving."

 

"Ooh, bad boy Benny, gonna skip a whole period with me? Whatever will we do to occupy ourselves?"

 

"I'm sure we'll figure something out," he flashed a grin, and Mercutio felt a tug in his stomach. It was probably the strawberry syrup. "Race you to my car, short legs."

 

"Eat my dust!" Mercutio dashed past him, grateful for the distance between them. The feeling weird around Benvolio thing was getting progressively worse and he needed a distraction. He beat Benvolio to the car again. He was always the fastest. The bell rang, and they were officially skipping seventh period.

 

"You... Suck," Benvolio wheezed when he finally caught up to Mercutio.

 

"Not with that attitude," Mercutio winked at him. Benvolio rolled his eyes and pushed up onto the trunk of the car, catching his breath. He was flushed from running, and his dark bronzed ringlets were a mess as he ran his fingers through them. He wasn't bad looking. He had light brown eyes, golden skin, and some kind of goatee mustache stubble that looked like it would tickle if he kissed you. And Mercutio was on fire again, how fun.

 

"You cheat," Benvolio said without turning to look at Mercutio. He pushed up onto the trunk next to him, and they ended up shoulder to shoulder despite the four inch rule.

 

"How so?"

 

"You started running ahead of me."

 

"Oh, of course. Because if we'd started at the same time you'd definitely have beaten me."

 

"I could have."

 

"Alright, sure you could've."

 

"Don't patronize me," he bumped Mercutio lightly with his shoulder. Mercutio bumped him back.

 

"You think Romeo knows?" Mercutio asked quietly, not sure why he did and wishing he hadn't.

 

"Knows what?" Benvolio gave him one of those meaningful looks of concern, and it was very sweet. Not sweet. Nice. Friendly. Not cute.

 

"About Tybalt," he was still almost whispering. About me, he wanted to say. He didn't have to. It was implied.

 

"No. He would've said something by now," Benvolio looked back out toward the parking lot. "He won't figure it out. He doesn't think there's a problem."

 

Mercutio found that hard to believe. Romeo had been suspicious when he had first started seeing Tybalt, even though he never said anything outright. He knew there was something off about Mercutio disappearing after classes and taking off in the middle of lunch. And he wasn't blind, he could see Benvolio shooting him those looks, those always worried looks. But he never said anything. Romeo definitely knew something was up, he just didn't ask.

 

Benvolio looked over at Mercutio again.

 

"Stop getting quiet."

 

"I'm just thinking."

 

"Don't," Benvolio frowned. "Don't think about it," don't think about him.

 

"Easy for you to say, you're not the one who-"

 

"The one who had to drag his best friend halfway across town to a hospital in the middle of the night covered in blood?" Benvolio snapped. Mercutio winced. There was a reason they didn't bring up the Tybalt thing, never ever, please, seriously, just don't. Benvolio sighed and patted Mercutio's hand. "Sorry."

 

"I'm the one who brought it up."

 

"Well it's not fair to expect you to shut up about it all the time, it was two years of your life."

 

"Yours too."

 

"I wasn't the one who tried to go out with Tybalt."

 

"I was pretty stupid."

 

"Don't do that," Benvolio pleaded. "Don't call yourself stupid all the time."

 

"It's true," and he was done with the heart to heart stuff so he went with changing the subject. "You think Tybalt's gonna scream again when he sees his backseat?"

 

"Hopefully," Benvolio smiled, "And he'll know exactly who did it."

 

"Like anyone else is gonna mess with him," Mercutio scoffed. "That's our right, exclusively."

 

"Oh, we're exclusive now? I thought we were seeing other people."

 

"Of course not, Benny dearest."

 

Benvolio smiled at him. His hand was still sitting on top of Mercutio's, and neither of them was going to correct it. But they were just friends, Mercutio told himself, they were friends who kinda held hands on top of his car sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2!! Tell me what you think, and what you did or didn't like, i'm learning and fixing as we go.


	3. Chapter 3

Romeo took forever to meet them after school, and by the time he showed up the parking lot was half empty. Benvolio and Mercutio had started playing catch with his books after a while, and there were paperbacks strewn all over the blacktop within a five foot radius of the car. Mercutio had tried to grab his earth science textbook, but Benvolio gave him the face (destruction of the school's books was wrong but smashing Tybalt's window was perfectly okay, in case you needed an example of Benvolio's moral compass).

"Do you two have no respect for personal property?" Romeo sighed as he walked up.

"Nope," Mercutio laughed. "Especially not if it's yours. You're lucky we didn't destroy your earth science book."

"It's not my property, of course you weren't interested in destroying it."

"Where have you been?" Benvolio asked as he tossed Mercutio _The Grapes of Wrath_. "Making up with Rosaline?"

Romeo scoffed. Rosaline was his middle school (and half of last year) girlfriend, and they had been a really cute couple until he found out that 'saving yourself for the right time' meant doing it with half the junior varsity team while your boyfriend was in math. Now she was dating some guy whose name was John or something and wore a purity ring like it meant something. They didn't have any hard feelings towards her or spread rumours or anything, but Romeo still rolled his eyes whenever they saw her 'studying' in the school library with John or whoever. Mercutio felt bad for him and all, but at least she hadn't broken any of his ribs when they broke up.

"No Rosaline. I had to hide out in the bathroom for half an hour because fucking Tybalt has had lackeys waiting to jump me," Romeo grumbled. "He heard about the syrup."

"Really?" Mercutio asked, walking over. Tybalt was an ass, but he knew to leave Romeo out of their feud. "He was waiting for you?"

"Uh, yeah, he hates me? And Benvolio? And our whole family?" Romeo said slowly, like he was explaining it to a baby. Mercutio would've smacked him for the sarcasm but he had just said 'our whole family' like it included Mercutio too and that sort of gave him a free pass. "He's, like, followed me around for weeks now?"

"What?!" Benvolio and Mercutio yelped at almost the exact same time. Great minds.

"And you didn't tell us?" Benvolio demanded. "He could've jumped you! He could've- He could've-" he was started to get worked up now, and it was unclear whether he was very angry or very upset.  "Romeo, you've got to tell us- When- He-" One look at his face and Mercutio figured it was the latter. "You have no idea what he could've done to you, Romeo, he- You c- You- You-" and he was cutting himself off now because he might be starting to have a panic attack, and Romeo didn't know about those, so Mercutio grabbed his arms and wheeled him around to they were face to face.

"Hey, hey, look at me," Mercutio said sternly. Benvolio looked up and oh, he looked so scared, it took everything in Mercutio not to just hug him. "Tybalt didn't hurt Romeo, right?"

Benvolio looked over at Romeo frantically.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Ben,"  Romeo said, nodding fervently.

"See? He's fine."

"But- He could've-"

"He could've fallen down a flight of stairs today, but the good new is that didn't happen. Tybalt didn't touch him. Tybalt's not gonna touch him. Okay?" and this sounded a lot like what he had said to Benvolio the week before he ended up in the ICU, but he wasn't going to think about that because it was clear Benvolio already was. "Okay?"

Benvolio nodded. "Okay."

"Okay. You good?"

Benvolio nodded again. "Let's go. We've been here too long, I'm starting to go crazy," he tried with a weak laugh. Romeo nodded and started gathering up his books off the blacktop, leaving Benvolio and Mercutio conveniently alone, and the hell he didn't know something had happened. Sneaky genius.

"You sure you're okay?" Mercutio said quietly. Benvolio nodded again, and Mercutio let his hands slide off Benvolio's arms. "Okay."

"Sorry. I- That could've been bad. I almost said something- About it, while he was here."

Mercutio almost laughed.

"That's what you're worried about? Romeo finding out? Hate to break it to you, but he already knows. He doesn't know the details, but he's not completely oblivious."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know, but he said Tybalt was following and I just imagined..." he flicked a glance up at Mercutio and he knew exactly what Benvolio had been imagining. If he could go back in time, he would make sure Benvolio hadn't found him, because it obviously got to him a lot more than he let on. But who wouldn't be bothered by finding their friend's bloodied body and having to carry it to a car, that was a pretty big deal.

"But that's not gonna happen. Because Tybalt isn't into Romeo and has no way to lure him to an empty field and also, he knows that if touches Romeo, his house will be lit on fire with him inside," Mercutio said, and he wondered why they hadn't just burned the fucker alive already. Besides ending up in prison, that plan was perfect. And prison couldn't be so bad, there was free food at least.

"Yeah. I know. Thanks," Benvolio exhaled. "Sorry for bringing it up, I know it bothers you."

Before Mercutio could reply, Romeo walked up behind them and shoved his books at Mercutio.

"You get to put them back in the car," he said with a grunt. Damn, Romeo had a lot of books. Mercutio ended up riding backseat, but that was fine because he could totally see Benvolio glancing at him every fifteen seconds in the rearview mirror. Ben caught his eye once and smiled before looking back to the road, and Mercutio swore that he could see pink in his friend's cheeks.

 

 

When they got home (to the Montague place), Benvolio didn't look like he wanted to play so Mercutio decided against chasing him inside. Romeo went to do homework in the den because Benvolio and Mercutio were apparently 'no help at all' and 'distracting, like hemorrhoids' (which meant he was leaving them alone again because he knew something was up, he was so smart sometimes, that boy deserves an award).

"You look bummed," Mercutio stated. Benvolio rolled his eyes and threw himself on the floor.

"What gave it away?" He said through a faceful of carpet.

"Well, you are grazing on Romeo's floor, and I didn't get to chase you around," he said as he sat down across from Benvolio. "Benny dearest."

"Sorry," Benvolio sighed, propping himself up on his elbows. "I'm just thinking, darling."

"Don't think about, remember?" Mercutio said quietly, poking at one of his arms. "Makes things easier."

"That's true. But it's getting-"

"I know."

"Like it just bothers me more, lately."

"I know. But talking about it isn't gonna change-"

"Okay, but still, Mercutio. You have to at least try to let me help. Because I know it bothers you."

"Alright. Fine. But it bothers you too."

"Yeah, because it bothers you."

'No, because you had to watch me almost die and keep it a secret' Mercutio thought, but if he said anything that was talking about it so he just nodded.

"I think we should've told somebody," Benvolio mumbled.

"What?" Mercutio demanded, his blood pressure spiking. He could feel his head beginning to explode. The room was going to be decorated with his brains in a moment, he could feel it.

"You were in the eighth grade. You were- A baby. You wouldn't have been in any trouble. You didn't even-"

"Ben, did you forget who I live with?" Mercutio hissed, beginning to panic. If Benvolio told people, he would die, he would fall of the face of the Earth and die. This was not helping. "Tybalt wouldn't even get in trouble, his family's loaded, and he's got a mental instability plea because his uncle died around that time, we already went over this, and _we are not telling anyone._ "

"Why not? What's it gonna hurt?" Benvolio asked, and he was looking at Mercutio with that look, and he so badly wanted to tell him. 'Because, Benvolio, my brother would kill me, and my dad's never home to notice me but I'm sure he'd find time to send me to straight camp if he knew, and if people know what happened, if they know, if they know, if they know, if they know'. But he couldn't make any noise so he just shook his head. "You're not gonna tell me."

"If they know..." Mercutio started. He didn't know where to go from there. He just knew people couldn't know. "I don't know."

"It's okay," Benvolio nodded. "But we should-"

"I don't wanna talk about it anymore," he rolled over onto his back. That's why they had the Tybalt rule, don't talk about it, ever, never, seriously, please just don't do it. It gave him headaches. And when he had headaches, Ben worried, and that made it worse, because Benvolio was worried about him all the time and it made him sad. He was really obsessive over things, and he got nervous about people getting hurt, and he was for some reason adamant about Mercutio's well being. Mercutio just got upset a lot over nothing and was also really hyperactive (but that part was his ADHD). Benvolio said he was traumatised, and that he needed a counselor, but he didn't want to hear either of those things. It actually worked out well, because Benvolio knew how to make Mercutio not-upset and vice versa. What are best friends for, right? Of course, when your best friend is hell bent on making you talk about feelings and won't let you suppress stuff, it makes you wanna throttle him no matter how much you love him. Like him. In a friend way.

Benvolio crawled over to him on his elbows and leaned his head over Mercutio's. His curls were hanging like a curtain and he looked like a dork with that serious look on his face, and this was one of the ways he helped make Mercutio not-upset. It almost made up for the random psychiatry sessions he'd try to pull. Almost.

"You okay?" He asked, and when he did some of his hair tickled Mercutio's face. That was nice, and maybe he didn't want to throttle Benvolio so much anymore.

"I'm fine," he sighed. "Just kinda wanna get out of here."

"Escape the pit of capitalist greed that is home?" Benvolio smiled.

'Out of the planet, or at least my own skin. You know, the skin that was covered in blood that night? The skin with scars and tears that stand out like braille? That crawls whenever we talk about Tybalt, so could we please never talk about him again and could you just keep smiling through your hair so I don't think about how much everything bothers me? Please?'

But he couldn't say that to Benvolio because it would make him sad, and he didn't want to do that, and he wasn't that upset right now anyways so he said something more mild.

"Well, mostly the pink, kinda giving me a headache, but also the capitalism."

"You love the pink, big liar. Wanna go home?"

"I a-" he almost said 'I am home', but then he realized Benvolio was talking about where he lived, and he wasn't going to think about how sad it was that the Montagues' was home, and he sighed. "Sure."

"That doesn't sound very enthusiastic."

"No, really, we should- We should go by my house and see if Paris has anything fun for us to do, and if not we can just come back here," Paris always had something going on, he was the most social person in the world. He was friends with everyone, literally, he was the go-to guy if you ever needed anything, always your best bet. He just liked the attention.

"Okay. Wanna get Romeo?"

"No," Mercutio knew it was probably weird, but he didn't care, he didn't want Romeo making his headache worse. "If there's something good going on we can come back for him."

"Alright," Benvolio smiled, leaning back and offering a hand to pull Mercutio up. "Let's go."

 

 

 

The drive to his house worked to calm Mercutio down quite a bit, although that was mostly due to Benvolio. Not mostly, completely- Mister "Talk About Your Feelings" could very quickly turn into Mister "Make You Feel Better". It was one of his finer traits. But when they pulled up to the house, Mercutio felt like he was gonna get a headache again. Go figure, he didn't wanna get out of the car.

"Want me to go in with you? Too chicken?" Benvolio teased.

"Nah. I'll be back in a minute," Mercutio smiled, walking up to the front door and hesitating just a split second before going in.

It was exactly the way he remember leaving it this morning, dark and smelling of laundry. They weren't poor, per say, but they definitely weren't rich like Romeo or Tybalt. It was a two story house, they were renting it, and it basically just looked like a big motel bedroom. His dad didn't really decorate. But Mercutio liked how dark it was most of the time. Easy to hide, pretend you're sitting in a sea of void. The lights were always on, they just seemed dimmer than outside. His house was also very quiet, because his dad worked, he himself was almost always at Benvolio and Romeo's, and Paris didn't like to talk to his dad or his brother. Currently, Paris was sitting at the kitchen table, doing his homework (or more likely someone else's) and texting on his phone.

"Hey, P," Mercutio said, leaning against the counter next to him.

"Hello, Mercutio," Paris said without looking up. "You're home early. Get kicked out of the Montague mansion?"

"Nope, just thought I'd come down and visit my big bro."

"Mhm. What do you want?"

"Any parties tonight? Or interesting activities?"

"Oh, are you bored over there in the golden-pink posh palace?"

"Maybe."

"Well, fine, but you're not gonna like what I've got," he sighed, finally looking up. "Tybalt's aunt is throwing this huge gala or whatever, and she needs a lot of people to show up because it's getting photographed for some magazine. So Tybalt told me to invite a bunch of people," he beamed at that last part, like Tybalt making him hype up a party was some big achievement.

"Why would I not like that?" he asked nervously. Paris couldn't possibly know about him and Tybalt, could he?

"Because his family hate's Romeo and Benedick-"

"Benvolio."

"-Whatever, they hate each other, and if you show up with them there's gonna be trouble."

"Oh, right, their families- Right," Mercutio nodded. Paris didn't know, of course he didn't. And he probably didn't want Mercutio to show up, but he loved to brag about these kinds of things.

"It's a masquerade theme, I'm pretty sure, but Hero Clark is leaving a bunch of paper masks by the mailbox so you can just wear whatever, and Claudio said he-"

"Right, cool. I've gotta go, I'll see you at the party," he said quickly before he dashed out. His brother would spend hours talking about people Mercutio didn't even know. It was actually helpful when he needed to zone out.

"Any luck?" Benvolio asked as Mercutio slid back into the passenger seat.

"Tybalt's having a party, and my brother thinks your name is Benedick?"

"Well, perhaps that's because I've been a dick," Benvolio smiled. Mercutio snorted, because word puns never got old. "Tybalt's having a party, you say?"

"Yeah. Mom's got some photographer coming and she needs it to look lively and fun, so Tybalt's got Paris bringing in the whole state."

"Well, we wouldn't want to miss the chance to be on the cover of _House Parties Monthly_ , would we?"

"I think not," Mercutio agreed. "And I also think we wouldn't want to miss the chance to mess with Tybalt's stuff in his house."

"That is an interesting idea, Mercutio dearest," Benvolio smiled as he backed out of the driveway (and almost hit the mailbox, seriously how does he have a licence) and gunned it back to his house. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well for starters, we're going to need jelly, stamps, condoms, pickles, and olive oil."

Benvolio cackled and did an (illegal) U-turn in the middle of the road.

"Let's go revenge shopping!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaahhhh!! I was really unsure about this chapter, I didn't really like it (?) but I needed to allude to the tough guy's fragility and get them to a party! Tell me what you think!!


	4. Chapter 4

Benvolio's terrible driving aside, revenge shopping was fun. Mercutio ran Benvolio around the store in a cart making racecar noises, "accidentally" knocked over a shelf of strawberry syrup, and got kicked out. They then had to go to WalMart and make quieter racecar noises while Benvolio took a turn pushing Mercutio around.

"What do we need again?" Benvolio asked, aimlessly wheeling the cart in circles.

"Jelly and mayonnaise to fill his hair stuff with. Oh, can we buy hair dye, please, please?!" Mercutio cried, turning around to make puppy eyes at Ben.

"Fine," Benvolio laughed, "What else?"

"Um, stamps to put inside his socks-"

"What?"

"They're fucking impossible to get off, and feel weird when you stand on them. He'll hate it."

"Okay. What else?"

"Condoms, and pickles to put in the condoms, and strawberry syrup to cover his clothes in."

"Okay. Ready?" Benvolio stopped the cart in front of the condiments aisle and looked ahead with intent. "We're gonna leg it through the store, I bet we can get everything in less than seven minutes. Just grab the stuff as we pass it."

"Let's fuckin do this!" Mercutio whooped, laughing wildly as Benvolio took off. He snatched two jars of mayo and yanked a shelf of jelly into the cart. When they got to the syrup endcap, he snatched a bottle of strawberry syrup and shoved the rest of them over.

"Okay, pickles are over there," Benvolio laughed, swerving the cart as Mercutio stuck out his hand. He managed to grab a jar without breaking anything.

"Wait, how are we gonna get the stamps?"

"Hey! Cut it out!" A man called, walking towards them with a look of authority. Benvolio halted abruptly and ended up slamming Mercutio into a freezer.

"Motherfuck," he hissed. Benvolio huffed and glared at the man in the uniform.

"Look what you did!" Benvolio cried, gesturing at Mercutio.

"I- You two kids made a mess!"

"You injured my poor boyfriend! My black, gay boyfriend! That's a hate crime!"

"W-What? You ran him into the freezer! Get out of-"

"This is an outrage! I'm going to call the mayor! I'm going to call the police! I'll call my lawyer! I have the vice president's home phone number! I will ruin you!"

"You-" the man struggled, finally just sighed and walked away. "Whatever."

"You better run!" Benvolio called. When the guy was far enough away, Benvolio turned to Mercutio and began spouting apologies. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"That-" Mercutio wheezed, "Was the best thing- You've ever done."

"Wh- You're okay?"

"I'm fine! Jesus, I'm not a doll, you act like I've never been hit before. That was the coolest thing ever, you broke that guy!"

"I think he might've just considered that he's only making six fifty an hour and we aren't worth it," Ben scoffed. "Sorry I called you my boyfriend."

"Don't be," he sighed, and then realized how that sounded, so he added, "It's perfectly alright, Ben my love."

"Alright, honey bear."

"Wanna go run that guy over?"

"Nah. We can't get kicked out of another store, tough guy. Next closest grocery store is like half an hour away and I don't think you want me driving us that far."

"I prefer the cart, thanks."

"Stamps?"

"Stamps, condoms, and hair dye."

"What color hair dye?" Ben asked, wheeling the cart to the hair products at a normal pace.

"I dunno. What looks terrible on Tybalt, besides everything?"

"Look at me?" Benvolio asked, contemplating Mercutio's face when he turned around. "Green."

"Why?"

"Because it looks good on you."

"Everything looks good on me, Benny dearest."

"Everything looks good off of you, Cutio darling," Benvolio said with a smolder. Mercutio blushed bright pink and started laughing. He hadn't turned back around, and it wasn't because he didn't want to stop looking at Benvolio, really, it wasn't.

Or maybe it was a little.

"Green," Benvolio sighed, stopping in front of the long wall of hair dye, "Help me find the grossest one."

"He's so pale. He needs, like, shit green, so he'll look gross. Like a swamp monster."

"He already looks gross."

"But does he look like a swamp monster?"

"Not yet," Benvolio conceded. "Here," he snatched a box off the wall and threw it at Mercutio.

"Splat neon green," Mercutio read the box. "Nice."

"I hope it ruins his life."

"If not, I'm sure we'll figure something else out."

"I will," Benvolio nodded, and Mercutio glanced up at him. He was making the serious face again. It was still specifically _not_ hot. Very, very strictly and noticeably not hot.

Well. Maybe a little.

"Stamps and condoms, now."

"We get those at checkout," Ben said as he wheeled them to a cashier. Mercutio grabbed a box of Lucky Charms as they passed.

"Those are for us," he grinned. Benvolio ruffled his hair.

"They better be."

At the checkout, the woman gave them their stamps and offered a long disapproving glare at the twelve boxes of condoms they were buying. Mercutio matched her glare from the cart, surely looking like some kind of heathen sex-crazed teenager.

"Cash or credit?"

Benvolio handed her his credit card (thanks Lady Montague) and tapped in the pin.

"Thanks, daddy," Mercutio cooed, winking at Ben and relishing in the woman's disgusted face.

"You can thank me later tonight," Benvolio replied, making eyes at Mercutio and obviously enjoying the woman's discomfort as much as he did.

"Whatever you say, daddy."

"Have a nice night!" Benvolio smirked at the cashier. She shot him a glare, and Mercutio stood up in the cart to flick her off and make obscene gestures. Benvolio was dying of laughter by the time they got outside.

"What a bitch!" Mercutio huffed, throwing a leg over the side of the cart and climbing out. He grabbed the bag and gave Benvolio a sideways look. "Betcha I can beat you to the car."

"I know you can, roadrunner. But can you-" Benvolio cut off and dashed towards the car.

"Cheater!" Mercutio called, running after him. He still beat Benvolio to the car by three seconds.

"You suck!" Benvolio cried. "How do you do this?"

"How do I suck, or how do I run so quickly?" Mercutio smiled, lifting the trunk and throwing the bag in. He pulled out the box of Lucky Charms and tossed it at Benvolio. "Because I can demonstrate-"

"How do run so fast, smartass," Benvolio threw open the driver's door and climbed in. Mercutio walked around and slid in the passenger's side.

"I have strong legs."

"I can imagine."

And what the hell did that mean? He can imagine what? Mercutio's legs? And Benvolio thinking of his legs was going straight to Mercutio's head, among other things.

Fucking hell.

"Marshmallows?" Benvolio extended his hand. Mercutio took them.

"Thanks," he dumped them all in his mouth.

"I hope you choke," Benvolio said, and Mercutio almost did because again, that had other implications. "Let's go get my cousin and fuck with Tybalt."

"Mhm," Mercutio nodded, thinking that fucking with _Tybalt_ was the last thing on his mind.

 

"Romeo!" Mercutio howled, entering the house and spreading his arms wide. "Where you at?"

"Upstairs!" There was a thud, followed by the rush of Romeo's feet tripping down the stairs. Mercutio laughed. "What's up?"

"We're goin out, angel baby, get in the motherfuckin' car!"

"Where to?" Romeo snatched a shoe off the floor and hopped around putting it on while searching for the second.

"Tybalt's," Mercutio said proudly, and Romeo looked up in awe. "The devil himself is throwing a party and we're invited."

"We are not," Romeo found his shoe lying on a chair and quickly began pulling it on.

"No, but we're gate crashing, which is just as fun and twice as interesting."

"Why are we going to Tybalt's party?" Romeo followed Mercutio out the front door.

"We're doing God's work," Mercutio said without turning around. He and Benvolio were sharing a look across the driveway, Mercutio walking down with his hands thrown in the air and Benvolio leaning against his car with his arms crossed. Mercutio grinned, and Benvolio slid back into the driver's seat.

"Halle-fuckin-lujah," Benvolio muttered, revving the engine. Mercutio laughed conspiratorially and pointed at him as he neared the car.

"Halle-fuckin-lujah, Benny boy!"


	5. Chapter 5

Getting into the party wasn't hard at all. Paris was right when he said the whole state would be there- the place was packed. (Unsurprising, since Paris had been tasked with the invites). Teenagers in cheap deco masks carrying red solo cups were spilling out the front gate. The manor was practically oozing hormones. Mercutio wouldn't be surprised to find out every if high school in the state was there- in fact, was that the Sistine Chapel of The Holy Word's mascot in the pool? That school was six hours away, and all boys, and cost upwards of 250 grand a year to attend.

When Paris said he'd do something, he really did it, Mercutio had to give him that. Although the sudden vibrancy of strobe lights and teenagers didn't go with the decor at all.

In stark contrast to the Montague mansion, the Capulet manor was all black, gothic, and Victorian. The black wrought iron front gates were thirteen feet high and the rest of the wall around the 400-something acre manor was white marble. The front lawn was perfectly manicured, the bushes lining the front walkway the exact same height, and all the creepy marble statues were perfectly poised every 200 feet. Of course, right now they were bathed in blue led light, and the lawn was littered with drunken teenagers. The pool around back was thumping music, surrounded by squealing high schoolers. Mercutio knew every inch of this house, the grounds, he knew every way in and out of the house. He knew that Tybalt's aunt, Lady Capulet (who insisted on being called 'Lady' because Romeo's mother did), had two windows in her room and that her balcony was easy to climb down. He knew that Tybalt's room had one window and that his cousin's room had three, and that his cousin had two balconies and one of them creaked when you grabbed the side rail. There was a servant's staircase that led out the back, to the other side of the yard, and from there you could get out through a small gate half hidden by some hedges.

“You ready?” Benvolio asked, snapping Mercutio’s attention away from the gates as they parked on the opposite side of the street.

“As I'll ever be,” he sighed, glancing back at the gates.

“Yeah right, I'll bet you've been dreaming of this,” Romeo laughed as he got out of the car. _Not dreams, nightmares_ , Mercutio thought darkly. As if sensing his thoughts, Benvolio put a hand on his arm and gave him a concerned look.

“You know we don't have to do this, right? We can go home,” Benvolio said quietly.

“I want to. I just…” he sighed. “I'm actually not that bothered by it, you know? And that’s what’s weird. But this is fine.”

Ben stared at him for another moment, knowing he wasn't telling the truth but deciding whether or not he should still let them go through it anyways.

“Alright,” he finally sighed, squeezing Mercutio’s arm and smiling as he got out of the car.

“Let’s go!” Mercutio cried with more enthusiasm than he felt, grabbing the bag of stuff off the floor and grinning fiercely at Romeo. “You ready?”

“I've kinda got a bad feeling about this place. Must be the creepy gates and the drunk teenagers,” Romeo said as they walked across the street. Two drunk girls wobbled past them laughing, and Mercutio wondered absently if they should be going home by themselves. If the two were still there when they were done- which they might be, as they'd just collapsed in a giggling heap on a neighbor’s lawn- he'd have Ben drive them home.

“You think this place gives you a bad feeling,” Benvolio muttered with a disgusted look on his face. Romeo glanced between him and Mercutio before laughing and walking ahead. If he'd thought it once he'd thought it a hundred times, but Mercutio was dead sure that Romeo was secretly a genius.

“Tone it down. We're here to demolish Tybalt’s _room_ , not Tybalt,” Mercutio grabbed Benvolio’s arm and pulled him to the side of the yard opposite the pool.

“I make no promises,” Ben grumbled, and _holy fucking shit if that wasn’t hot_. “Tybalt’s room is on the other side of the house.”

“I know that. Trust me, I know where his room is,” and Benvolio made another noise of distaste, “But this way is where we can go in through the kitchen and avoid all the people.”

“You think there aren’t gonna be people in the kitchen at a party? Seriously?”

“You don’t know Tybalt’s mother,” Mercutio said as he pulled Ben around to the maid’s kitchen entrance by his wrists. He glanced around them before continuing. “Now, remember, some of these people probably know me, and might know you, because, y’know, they hate you, so just be cool.”

“They're the help, Cutio, they hate Tybalt almost as much as we do. And they're not gonna recognize you from two years ago, you look nothing like you did.”

“The help?” Mercutio questioned with a raised eyebrow. Benvolio rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation.

“I was making a point, smartass,” he hit Mercutio upside the head and let his arm rest around his neck for a moment. “Worst case scenario we pretend we're a young drunk couple. There’s tons of those around.”

“You'd just love that, wouldn't you, Benny dearest?”

“Oh, you know I'd love nothing more, sweetheart.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Mercutio pushed Benvolio off playfully, because if that had gone for much longer who knows what uncomfortable situation they could've gotten into. He led Benvolio into the kitchen- completely empty. “Told you.”

“I like it. Quiet. Not gaudy like my pink and gold nightmare,” Ben ran a hand across the smooth marble countertop. Seeing Benvolio in the Capulet kitchen was like seeing a giraffe on a dairy farm. He looked away from his friend, growing uncomfortable with the image of him in this other world and instead reassessing the details of the familiar kitchen.

The kitchen was huge, black and marble, and elegant as hell. It was like an Ikea wet dream, or the president’s weekend home. The cabinets were sleek black; the counters and sink were white marble. It was always almost completely empty, save for an occasional maid or cook. Mercutio used to like to hide in the kitchen, with the huge black fridge, and the windows with the black metal curves spiraling onto the wall. Mercutio walked past the section of hanging pots and pans where, sure enough, the vast knife collection still rested on the counter. They had white marble handles, each one with a different Greek myth depicted on it. The blades where stainless steel and black, of course. Tybalt told him they cost over half a million dollars. That could very well be true due to the marble alone, although Mercutio found that they also cut very, very well. He looked away and coughed.

“Tybalt’s room, remember? Let’s go,” Mercutio walked out the door and down the servant’s hallway without waiting for Benvolio. Ben managed to catch up with him anyways.

“You sure you're okay?” He asked. Mercutio nodded without turning around.

“I like the knives in your kitchen much better,” he said.

“The knives? Mercutio, no, wait, stop,” Ben grabbed his hand. He stopped. “You seriously can't say things like that and not expect a reaction from me.”

“I just meant the kitchen. I like your kitchen much better. Okay?”

“Cutio. Look at me.”

Mercutio looked over his shoulder at Benvolio.

“You need to go home,” Ben said decisively, tugging him toward the kitchen. “Come on.”

“No, Ben, stop. Please. This house was a nightmare, okay? But I'm not scared. Nothing is gonna happen to me. I know that. Remembering things and being upset by them are two different things.”

“Then don't say shit about knives, Cutio, Jesus fucking-”

“Can we just go?” Mercutio pleaded. Benvolio sighed.

“Fine. But this is terrible decision and I'm on record as trying to stop us. Twice.”

“Duly noted, now let’s fucking go,” Mercutio tugged him down the hall and up the side stairs. This house had corridors and hallways and exits everywhere, because there were a shit ton of wait staff always on duty. They all wore black and white uniforms with fancy embroidery. He opened a door on the third floor and they were in the hallway of bedrooms. Three guest rooms, Lady Capulet’s huge master bedroom, Juliet’s room, and- “Here we go, on the end. Tybalt’s cave of horrors.”

Benvolio pushed the door open and ushered Mercutio in before shutting it.

“Ready?” He looked around the room and rubbed his hands together like some mad scientist, and it was kindof adorable. “Hand me the pickles and the condoms.”

“How come you get to do the fun stuff?” Mercutio joked, pulling the box of condoms out and throwing it at Benvolio.

“Because I have more experience.”

Mercutio scoffed, and then glanced over at Benvolio to make sure he was joking. He was. Good.

“Here are your pickles, Mister Experience,” he said as he handed Benvolio the jar.

“Thanks, love. Where am I putting these again?”

“Mmm… I would say bathtub, but we've already got his hair stuff, so… And the socks and strawberry syrup have his clothes covered…”

“How about in the bed?” Benvolio said mischievously. “Then he has to move them before going to bed.”

“Ooh! I like it! Yes!” Mercutio pulled out the stamps and yanked open the bottom dresser drawer. Tybalt still kept his socks in the same drawer. Mercutio began flipping them inside out and sticking stamps in them.

“You're doing that with surprising skill,” Benvolio said with a slightly amused expression.

“I could say the same thing to you. That’s impressive, how fast you're sticking those pickles into those condoms. You must be quite the hit at… Orgies.”

Benvolio laughed.

“I will throw one of these pickles at you, Cutio.”

“Is that what you say at the orgies? Cause I gotta say, that’s not very sexy.”

“And you’re the authority on sexy, are you?”

“You know it, baby.”

“I certainly do.”

Mercutio used the last stamp and grabbed the bag off the floor, moving to the bathroom.

“I’m gonna start on the hair dye and jelly and mayonnaise, okay lover?” He called.

“Alright, honeybun,” Benvolio called back.

Mercutio decided on putting mayonnaise in the body wash (Axe brand Phoenix body wash), jelly in the conditioner (Axe brand Zen conditioner), and bleach from the hair dye box in the shampoo (Axe brand Lure shampoo). Tybalt really liked Axe. What a dick.

“Hey, babe, the hair dye’s gonna have to work different than I thought, cause I forgot about the bleach thing. I'm gonna mix the dye part into his gel because he uses it after he showers, and he does this weird thing where he shampoos for like half an hour,” Mercutio said as Benvolio appeared in the doorway. “Here, start putting the jelly in this bottle,” he pushed the conditioner at Ben and motioned to the jelly on the counter.

“He uses Axe?”

“Yep. Deodorant, hair gel, shampoo, conditioner, body wash… Do they make bubble bath?”

“If they did, he'd have it, and I don't see any, so probably not,” Benvolio scoffed as he unscrewed the cap to the jelly.

“Look at you, my big strong man. Unscrewing jelly by yourself.”

“I'm so tough, you don't even know.”

“Leap tall buildings in a single bound, stop a speeding bullet?”

“I don't know about that, but I could definitely take out Tybalt.”

“I've done that before, and trust me, you don’t wanna take him out.”

“Oh, trust me,” Benvolio said darkly. “I really, really wanna take him out.”

“Ben, cut it out.”

“I'm just saying,” he dumped the conditioner in the sink. “I would do it for you.”

Mercutio started to say something, and then stopped. He set down the mayonnaise. Something about the way he had just said that, ‘I would do it for you’- not ‘I would do it’, but ‘I would do it for you’, made Mercutio feel like his head was going to roll off his shoulders or his chest was going to explode.

“I'm done,” he said after a moment, standing and putting the ‘shampoo’ and ‘body wash’ back in the shower.

“Same,” Benvolio handed Mercutio the bottle of ‘conditioner’. “I'll mix the dye in with the gel, you break this jar into his carpet and use the strawberry syrup on his clothes.”

“You wanna put glass in his carpet? Isn't that a little…” Mercutio started, stopping when he realized that it wasn't a little anything. Tybalt deserved glass carpet. He had almost killed Mercutio. He was responsible for the trauma or whatever it was Benvolio said he had. He had given Mercutio black outs and a haircut he didn’t want with kitchen knives, he’d made him climb out windows, he'd beat him up, he'd stolen his clothes, and he deserved glass carpeting. Fuck Tybalt- not literally, not anymore, but seriously fuck that guy. Mercutio threw the jar at the ground in front of Tybalt’s bed and ground the tiny shards into the carpet. Then he pulled the strawberry syrup out of the bag and opened the closet. He smiled. This was what he'd really wanted to do.

“You went wild. Looks like a Jackson Pollack painting,” Benvolio said when he was done. Mercutio nodded proudly. He'd thrown half Tybalt’s clothes out the window and half all over his room. Then he’d uncapped the syrup and sprayed it all over the walls, floor, television- everywhere. Even on the bed and in the sock drawer.

“And Romeo thinks he's the artist.”

"Clearly not."

"God," Mercutio huffed, looking around the room. "I hate strawberry syrup."

“Let’s get out of here, you rebel,” Benvolio ruffled his hair and started out the door. Mercutio followed him after another moment of admiring his work, and then, out of nowhere-

“Mercutio?”

No.

No, no no no.

Nononononononono.

No, please, God, no, please do not let this be him.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

Mercutio couldn’t breathe. It was Tybalt. Black emo hair that was oh so grunge and oh so ridiculous looking. Skinny jeans. $400 black leather Converse. Blood On The Dance Floor tee shirt that Mercutio was pretty sure he'd had in the seventh grade. It was definitely Tybalt.

“Well? Are you gonna say something or are you just gonna stand there looking stupid? Did your brother tell you to come or something?”

Mercutio nodded quickly, ignoring how his vision was getting blurry and his head was being beat on by an invisible drummer and how he was a foot away from Tybalt.

“Paris is a complete fucking idiot. Go home.”

“I- I-” Mercutio tried to say something, but his mouth felt like it was made of Jello and velvet. This was pathetic.

“Do you really still stutter?” Tybalt stepped closer to him. “I thought you'd beat that out.”

“Y-You- I d-d- I w-wasn’t-”

“Listen princess, unless you want to accompany me back to my room, you need to leave.”

Mercutio froze. He couldn't breathe now, really, he actually couldn’t. Where was Benvolio? Where had Benvolio gone? He needed to breathe, he couldn't breathe. He was pathetic. He should be able to say  _something,_ anything, instead of just standing there like some kind of idiot. He needed Benvolio. He should've gone home. Stupid, stupid, so stupid. His lungs were empty.

“There’s no one up here to see-“

“Get the fuck away from him right now or I swear to God I’m going to kill you.”

There was Benvolio, sweet Benvolio. What was he holding? Was that a knife? A gun? A prosthetic leg? A dog? Mercutio couldn't see very well, his vision was still blurry.

“You're here too?” Tybalt turned away from Mercutio. “Jesus, who let all the trash in? I should've locked the gates.”

“You should move away from Mercutio and not say another word. I know you think you're some kind of badass or whatever because you almost killed him when you were thirteen, but I'm a lot bigger than you and I’ve been fantasizing about wringing your pale neck for two years so you need to get. The fuck. Away. From. Him,” Benvolio took a menacing step forward and Mercutio was going to black out, he knew it, but damn if he wasn't proud of Benvolio right now. How much self-control was he exercising right now, to not be bashing Tybalt’s head in?

“I see,” Tybalt turned and started toward his room slowly. “Mercutio’s new big bad boyfriend is gonna beat up his old one, is that it?”

“Yeah, it is, and I think I told you to shut up,” Benvolio stepped toward him again.

“Oh, what, are you gonna murder me with a lamp?”

“I don't need the lamp to murder your scrawny ass.”

That was a lamp? Mercutio would've laughed if he could breathe. His knees were going to give way, his vision was spotting, oh God, where was the wall, where was the floor, please just let him fall easy.

“I'll be back for you,” Tybalt stage whispered at Mercutio. Benvolio hurled the lamp at his head a fraction of a second after Tybalt flew into his room and slammed the door shut.

There go his knees.

“Hey, hey, I got you,” suddenly, Benvolio was there holding him up. “We need to go. I’m so sorry, this was a terrible idea. I shouldn't have left you, I was- I'm so sorry, Mercutio, hey, Cutio, darling, look at me.”

Mercutio managed to roll his eyes up to meet Benvolio’s.

“Are you okay?”

“W-Where- Rom-meo, where’s-”

“We're getting you home, Romeo can find his own way back,” Benvolio said as he began helping Mercutio back to the servant’s hall. Mercutio glanced at the main staircase. Romeo was talking to a girl. Or at least, he thought it was Romeo, and he thought it was a girl. They were both blur-people.

“Romeo,” he lurched abruptly, and Benvolio had to steady him.

“Romeo!” Benvolio called, getting his cousin’s attention. “Let’s go!”

“But I-” he glanced back at the girl.

“Right now!”

“Ben-”

“Find your own way home!” Benvolio went back to helping Mercutio out. Everything was blurring together, and Benvolio was dumping him in the passenger’s seat, and holding his hand, and saying things he couldn't hear over the cacophony in his skull.

Where had those two girls gone? Had they gotten home? They weren't in the grass anymore, or maybe they were, he couldn't really see anything except dark tinged with dark. Only Benvolio was distinguishable in the blur, and only just. He was still talking, saying something, closing the door and getting behind the wheel, holding Mercutio's hand again, still saying things. Mercutio wished he could hear, if only his head would stop pounding. Everything was black now, black tinged black, like when he got bruises. The darkness was swirling and he was going to be gone any second now.

The last thing he saw before blacking out was the death of Achilles carved into the handle of one of Lady Capulet’s knives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think, please, this chapter was tricky!! (and don't forget to leave kudos if you still like the story after this chapter)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short warning, I know it's ramadan and this chapter contains some sex type stuff so !!

When Mercutio came out of the dark, they were still in the car. Everything was still dizzy and it took him a minute to realize Benvolio was still talking to him- No, not talking, Ben was yelling. Was he mad?

 

"Cutio, please, say something to me, fucking say something Jesus Christ please, come on, wake up."

 

No, he wasn’t mad, he was scared. He was worried, there were definitely tears shining in his eyes. He was still holding Mercutio's hand, too. Mercutio turned to look at him.

 

"Ben," he said, and he could hear his voice had recovered somewhat from its earlier stutter. He was glad; he’d hated that stutter, it took him years to get rid of it. Benvolio's head snapped to look at him and he veered off the road.

 

"Are you okay?!" He slammed the car into an abrupt stop in the dirt on the side of the road. His driving skills were definitely not improved by panic.

 

"Y-Yeah, I'm-" Mercutio tried.

 

"I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry, I went to look for Romeo and I couldn't find him and I thought you were behind me and then I turned around and you weren't there and I saw Tybalt at the top of the staircase and I-"

 

"Ben," Mercutio said sternly, and Benvolio fell silent. "I s-swear I'm fine."

 

"Did he touch you?" Benvolio asked suddenly, throwing the door opening and going over to Mercutio's side. He opened the passenger door and knelt, poking at Mercutio and examining him as if Tybalt could’ve reopened all his old scars. Maybe in a way he did. Ben grabbed both of Mercutio's hands. "I swear to God, if he laid a finger-"

 

"He didn't."

 

"You promise?" Benvolio looked up at him, not dropping either of his hands. "Because I will drive back there and murder him. I have no qualms."

 

Mercutio suddenly barked a laugh. He started laughing, and laughing, and he couldn't stop laughing. Benvolio looked at him with concern and that just made him laugh harder. Benvolio grabbed his shoulders.

 

"Cutio, what's so funny?" And Mercutio was so sure that hysteria was probably on some checklist or something and Benvolio probably thought he was having a psychotic break or something, which made it somehow even more amusing.

 

"Y-You-" Mercutio gasped for air. "Q-Qualms? Y-You have no qua-alms?"

 

Benvolio let his hands slide down Mercutio's arms and smiled a little.

 

"It's just a word, Merc." He exhaled. “People use it all the time.”

 

“N-No, oh my Go-od, they so-o fucking do not.”

 

“Whatever, don’t mock my vocabulary.”

 

“Oh, God- And earlier, w-when you had t-the fucking **_lamp_** -"

 

"I saw Tybalt and I panicked, I just grabbed the closest thing! Sorry I couldn't find a sword or something to defend your honor, God."

 

"Defend m-" Mercutio bust out laughing again. "Y-You- Oh, I love you, I love you so much, Jesu-"

 

Benvolio's eyes widened. Mercutio stopped. _Oh, no, Mercutio, why did you say that?_

 

"You what?" He asked quietly.

 

"I-I mean- You know what I m-meant, bro, I- Uh- N-Not that you aren't, y'know, um, a-attractive and- I mean, n-no, that's not what I meant- W-Why are you-"

 

Benvolio leaned forward and kissed him. His brain took two full seconds to register what was going on before he leaned into Benvolio and got his arms around his neck. He was kissing Benvolio. He was kissing Benvolio, _and Benvolio was kissing him. Benvolio had been the one who started kissing him. Benvolio was kissing him. Benvolio liked him. Benvolio. Benvolio’s mouth. Benvoliobenvoliobenvoliobenvolio-_

 

Ben had leaned halfway through the doorway by the time Mercutio’s brain caught up with his mouth and he started talking.

 

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed as he pulled back. Benvolio blinked at him. “Hoooooly shit! You- Me? Seriously?”

 

Benvolio blinked at him again and backed out of the doorway, standing awkwardly. He coughed.

 

“Uh, I'm sorry, I thought you…”

 

“Holy **_shit_**!” Mercutio hopped out of the car. “You have the hots for me!”

 

“Mercutio-”

 

“This is awesome!”

 

“Wait, are you angry or happy?”

 

“Romeo’s cousin has a crush on me!”

 

“That doesn't answer my question.”

 

“I can't believe you actually like me, I thought I was losing my mind, but you're so into me!”

 

“I thought it was kind of obvious? We do talk about sucking each other off a lot, I'm really not sure how you thought this was a straight relationship?”

 

“Oh my God! I knew that- You- Fucking, come here!” He grabbed Benvolio’s shirt and kissed him. Benvolio put his arms around Mercutio’s neck. “Oh, man, your cousin is gonna piss himself,” Mercutio smiled against Benvolio’s mouth.

 

“Oh, fuck, we- We can't tell Romeo, right? I'm not sure where I'm at with him, I can't tell how much he knows-"

 

“I know he knows about Tybalt.”

 

“Well, yeah, uh, about that-”

 

“You **_told him?!_** ” Mercutio took a step back.

 

“What? Of course not, you told me not to. But he covered for me with Aunt- Lady- Whatever, he lied to his mom about where I was when I took you to the hospital, so I know he knows.”

 

“Oh.” Of course Benvolio wouldn't tell Romeo. Mercutio relaxed.

 

“And I'm pretty sure he knows I’m- Y’know- Because honestly I don't know how you thought I was _fucking **straight** this whole damn time_ , oh my God I can't believe you thought I was a _hetero_ -”

 

“I couldn't even fathom you being into me, I'm a moron, we know, now shut up and kiss me,” he pulled Benvolio to him by his waist and they were kissing again, and he couldn't help smirking. He had Benvolio. Benvolio, the sweet dork who actually knew how to do math and who texted him back immediately and who called him dearest and Benvolio, the one who knew how to calm him down when he was upset, Benvolio who ate the cereal so he could have the marshmallows, Benvolio who drove too fast and- “Were you even wearing a seatbelt earlier?” Mercutio asked suddenly.

 

“You're lucky I kept the car on the road, I was worried about you.”

 

“I'd be worried about me too, unconscious in a car you're driving- Who knows what could've happened to me? I could be dead.”

 

Benvolio started kissing him again.

 

“What was that for?” Mercutio asked as he stepped away.

 

“You not being dead,” Benvolio walked back to the driver’s side. “It’s my favorite thing about you.”

 

“If you think I'm getting back in that death trap-"

 

“Get in the car or I’m not telling you who I saw Romeo with.”

 

“What? Romeo? With someone?!”

 

Benvolio smiled and climbed into the car. “With someone you know.”

 

“What?!” Mercutio dove into the passenger’s seat and Ben started the car. “Who the fuck-”

 

“Juliet. Motherfucking. Capulet.” He said smugly as he pulled back onto the road.

 

“OH MY GOD!” Mercutio started making a screaming noise and making wild hand movements. “HOLY SHIT!”

 

“I know!”

 

“That’s Tybalt’s COUSIN!”

 

“I know!”

 

“Your cousin is dating Tybalt’s cousin!”

 

“I know!”

 

“Holy-” Mercutio stopped. “Oh, no.”

 

“What, what is it? Is she evil too? I thought you said you liked her.”

 

“I do, she’s- Oh, no.”

 

“Stop saying oh no and fucking tell me what it is!”

 

“Tybalt’s… I know this is gonna sound bad. Like, really bad. But he’s messed up and you already don't like him so this probably won't surprise you very much, but-”

 

“Mercutio Prince if you don’t stop stalling and tell me what the fuck, I'm going to die of suspense right here in this car and you're going to die too because the car is going to crash without a driver.”

 

“Tybalt’s kinda got a thing for her. Juliet.”

 

Benvolio’s mouth hung open and he turned to give Mercutio a look of disbelief.

 

“No. Fucking. Way.”

 

“It’s not as bad as it- Like, he’s really protective of her because they kinda always treated him like trash compared to the main family since his dad died, and he was like, the ugly stepchild or whatever, but Juliet was kinda nice to him even though he was a prick, and one time she tried to date this guy who was one of her mom’s friend’s sons and Tybalt got really jealous and made me help him trash the guy’s front yard and he left a bunch of mean comments on his MySpace page and he tried to kill the guy one time, I think?”

 

“He what?!” Benvolio screeched.

 

“I mean, Juliet kinda knew about us, because she’s a genius and she’s really cool like I said, and so she would kinda let us come with them so we could go on double dates without her parents knowing, and one time we were out and Tybalt got in a fight with the guy while Juliet was in the bathroom and he brought a knife?”

 

“A- One of the kitchen ones?”

 

“Yeah. He loved those things. Thought they were like metaphorical or something. He used the one of Hades when he tricked Persephone with those Pomegranate seeds to cut off my dreads-”

 

“I knew he did that to your hair, I fucking knew it! You came to school on Tuesday and said you got lice but I could tell, I knew he had something to do with it- God, I hate him so much, you loved your hair, and he is such a prick!”

 

“I know,” Mercutio patted his hand. “I think the one he tried to stab Juliet's guy with was Odysseus blinding that cyclops.”

 

“When did Odysseus do that?”

 

“I think it was him- They went on the voyage, and like, the ships ended up on this island and this giant or cyclops or something lived there and they took his sheep or something, so then they got put in his cave to get eaten, and like, Odysseus blinded him so they could ride out on the sheep’s bellies. Something like that,” he added quickly, when Benvolio turned to look at him. “I probably got that all wrong, I’m kinda stup-”

 

Benvolio leaned over and kissed him, almost letting the car drift off the road.

 

“Don't call yourself stupid. It’s cute that you know that story.”

 

“Myths are like, the only thing I know. I don't know them really well, but I know all of them somewhat.”

 

“Yeah, I remember your Percy Jackson phase.” Benvolio smiled.

 

“Oh my God, get the fuck out of my face! Those books were good!” Mercutio laughed. “And I know other myths too, not just the Greek ones! I’m very cultured.”

 

“I know. And I know that because you never shut up about the myths, and Percy Jackson and those Olympus books.”

 

“Because they were good!”

 

“And because you totally had the hots for Percy Jackson.”

 

“Oh, man, I would suck his dick. Fifteen minutes with me and he'd forget all about the tiny blonde girl.”

 

Benvolio laughed, and almost let them veer off the road again. He had to yank the wheel to keep them on the blacktop.

 

“Jesus, Ben, learn to drive!”

 

“I know how to drive!”

 

"Says the liar!"

 

"Am not! I know how to drive!"

 

“No, you don’t!”

 

“I can drive stick.”

 

“Oh, I bet you can drive stick alright,” Mercutio said, giving Benvolio a sultry look.

 

“Knock that ridiculous smolder off your face or there will be no stick driving in your future.” He warned.

 

“Yes, daddy.”

 

“Mercutio.”

 

“Daddy?”

 

“No.”

 

“But daddy, I'm just doing what you say.”

 

“Why am I daddy? Why does God hate me?” Benvolio asked as he pulled into his driveway. “You okay with crashing here? I figured you wouldn't wanna go home,” he said as he got out of the car. Mercutio wouldn’t mention how this was as close to home as it got for him.

 

“How perceptive of you,” Mercutio said as he got out and walked over to the driver’s side. “Although I think maybe you just wanted me all to yourself.”

 

“Well, can you blame me?”

 

“Hmm, no, not really.”

 

“I think you're the mastermind here. You want me all to yourself.” Benvolio said as Mercutio trapped him by the side of the car.

 

“Well, can you blame me?” Mercutio breathed against his neck, slipping a finger through one of his belt loops.

 

“No, not really.”

 

Mercutio smiled and started kissing him, slowing working his way from the neck to Ben’s mouth. He could feel Benvolio’s heart beating fast, could feel the greediness of Benvolio’s mouth against his own. He smirked when Benvolio made a small whimpering noise as he pressed him against the car.

 

“Smug bastard,” Benvolio muttered against his lips. His smirk grew. “Self-satisfied asshole.”

 

“I’m proud of myself, what can I say?” He leaned over to Ben’s ear. “Daddy.”

 

“Oh my God.”

 

“What, don't act like that doesn’t-”

 

The blindingly bright driveway lights snapped on and Mercutio practically flung himself five feet away from Benvolio. His heart was ringing in his ears. _Oh, no, Lord Montague had seen them, and now he was going to kick Benvolio out, oh God, he'd ruined everything-_

 

“Who’s out there?” Someone called. It was a woman’s voice, it was Lady Montague. Mercutio exhaled.

 

“It’s just me, Auntie!” Benvolio called. “Me and Mercutio!”

 

“Oh. Where’s Romeo tonight?”

 

“Can't say, I haven't seen him since nine!”

 

“That boy- Oh, well you two come in! Silly me, sorry to have scared you!”

 

The lights flicked off. Benvolio and Mercutio shared a look.

 

“Guess I can't chase you inside, huh daddy?”

 

“You cut that daddy shit the fuck out, Cutio.” Benvolio pointed at him and started walking up to the door.

 

“Or you'll do what? Will you spank me, daddy? Have I been a bad boy?” Mercutio said quietly as he followed Benvolio.

 

“Oh my God,” Benvolio sighed, but Mercutio knew he was blushing. “Hurry up, you can walk faster than that.”

 

“I know, but I like watching you from behind. Unf. Work that ass, daddy.”

 

“You're gonna kill me,” Benvolio whined, but when he turned to look at Mercutio he was smiling. “Play it straight for her. She’s alright, but she’s not that alright.”

 

Mercutio nodded and they walked inside. He knew Romeo’s mom well enough.

 

“Hey, Lady C! Whatcha up to tonight?” Mercutio asked as they walked into the kitchen. She was standing by the island with a bottle of some fruit tea thing in a very expensive looking pink and gold lace nightie. She was smiling at him, because she was a nice lady. She was one of those people who acted happy their whole life, just smiling and talking in that upbeat, slow way that old people did, even though she was only like 40. At least, he thought she was 40, but she didn’t look even 35, so he didn't really know. She spoke like a grandma who made cookies and wore tiny round glasses.

 

“Oh, Mercutio, always so nice to see you. I was just going to bed and I thought I heard a car, so I came down here to get some tea and see who it was.”

 

“We would’ve brought Romeo home, except he was having such a good time we didn't want to spoil it for him.” Mercutio said, matching her smile. She thought he was just the most charming thing on two legs. If only she knew he had been about five minutes from putting her nephew’s dick in his mouth right there in the driveway.

 

“Oh, that’s fine. He should go out and have fun; he works so hard at school. How’s your brother, Paris? Is he still on the student government?”

 

“Yeah, he loves it. He’s a real people person. In fact, he helped throw the party Romeo’s at. That’s why I came here, cause there’s gonna be people at my house all night and me and Benvolio have a real big test we’re gonna be studying hard for tomorrow. I gotta keep up my grades and he’s just been such a help to me,” Mercutio clapped a hand on Benvolio’s shoulder. Lady Capulet beamed.

 

“Oh, now isn't that nice? Benvolio’s always been such a bright boy.”

 

“He really is some kind of genius, ain't he?” Mercutio grinned at Benvolio. He was enjoying this part.

 

“Oh, yes. I'll let you two get on to bed, I'm sure you know where the guest room is, dear.”

 

“Course, Lady C, I practically think of this place as home.”

 

“Aw, isn't that sweet of you to say. Goodnight now, boys,” she said as she walked up the stairs.

 

“Night, Auntie,” Benvolio waved. As soon as they heard her door shut Mercutio and Benvolio were on each other, Mercutio lifting Benvolio up by his waist and setting him on the island. Ben had to lean a bit to kiss him.

 

“How do you do that?” Benvolio asked after a few minutes.

 

“What, the thing with my tongue? It’s real easy, I can show you-”

 

“No, smooth talk her like that, she didn't even look at me the whole time, it was amazing.”

 

“Oh, well, your aunt thinks I'm the bee’s knees. And her not looking at you was the idea because you were blushing like mad and your pants were looking a little tight, to be honest,” Mercutio said with the most pride anyone could ever have in himself.

 

“You smug bastard,” Benvolio said before leaning down and kissing him again. “ _Mmm_ , you know what, I don't think these pants fit me, actually.”

 

“Oh, I agree, I think you should take them off.”

 

“And you, your pants are hideous.”

 

“They'd look better on your floor?”

 

“Definitely.”

 

Mercutio laughed and Benvolio slid off the island with little assistance, not breaking contact with each other the whole time. It was really kind of impressive how their mouths didn't seem to want to come apart. Although, Mercutio did accidentally back Benvolio into a cabinet, and it made a rather loud banging sound. He could barely keep from laughing, and he went to kissing Benvolio’s neck.

 

“Are you two alright?” Lady Capulet called over the intercom- yeah, they had one of those, because rich people couldn't yell at each other across a five story house.

 

“We're fine,” Benvolio managed to get out into the speaker by the sink. “We were just, u-uh,” he choked, because Mercutio slid a hand down the front of his jeans. “W-We- _Ah-_ _Ahh_ …” he trailed off, not even going to bother with trying to form words.

 

Mercutio was very proud of himself at this moment, having successfully made Benvolio a tongue-tied mess. He wouldn't have been able to tell you his own name.

 

“I was just getting something to drink, Lady C,” Mercutio said with his infuriating smirk that Benvolio couldn't even be mad at right now. “I'm just _so_ thirsty.”

 

Benvolio yanked him upstairs faster than Mercutio had ever known him to move in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so that happened. let me know what you think.


	7. Chapter 7

Benvolio awoke to the sound of a phone buzzing obnoxiously on the floor of his room. He blinked a few times and made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like protest. It took him a moment to remember the events of the night before- the party, almost murdering Tybalt, Mercutio... Mercutio, he realized with a start, asleep on top of him. Their legs were tangled together and Mercutio's head was pressed into his collar.

The phone buzzed again on the floor.

"Mercutio," he said quietly, trying to lean over the bed and grab the phone without moving too much. "Cutio."

"Mnnn, no," he nuzzled his head deeper into Benvolio's chest and adjusted himself so that he was weighing him down. Benvolio sighed. Even when he was asleep, Mercutio was a dick. Now he couldn't move without waking him.

The phone buzzed again. He really should answer it, because anyone could be calling and in this situation they couldn't afford to be taken by surprise.

"Sorry," Benvolio murmured before trying to slide from underneath Mercutio. But Mercutio grabbed at him as he moved and rolled, which pushed them both over the edge of the bed with a thud.

"Ugh," Mercutio groaned. Benvolio propped himself up and looked over at the mess of a boy who was currently tangled in his bedsheets on the floor.

"Are you okay?"

Mercutio rolled onto his back and smiled up at Benvolio.

"You're so cute."

"I'd like to think so."

"Why'd you wake me up?"

"Okay, you know what, I tried not to, and you landed us both on the floor, so this is on you. And I was looking for the phone, someone's calling."

"Who is?"

"I don't know, I don't have the phone," Benvolio said as he grabbed his pants off the floor and pulled his phone out of the pocket. Five missed calls from Romeo, but those were all from last night. He grabbed Mercutio's phone from the night stand. Three missed calls from Romeo, this morning.

"Who dares wake us up?" Mercutio said, his voice still heavy with sleep, as he crawled into Benvolio's lap.

"My cousin," Benvolio dialed the number. It only rang once.

"Mercutio?!"

"No, it's your cousin. And may I just say how offended I am that you called him and not me, honestly-"

"Oh, what the fuck ever Benvolio. Is- Are you guys okay? What happened?"

"Tybalt happened. Dirty fucking prick, I swear to God I'm going to shove my foot so far up his ass..."

Mercutio planted a kiss on his stomach and shook his head. Benvolio sighed.

"Anyways. How was your night?"

"Uh. It was fine."

"Really? Meet anyone?"

"Who, me? No, of course not, nobody, uh, interesting. Just some school people. That I knew. Didn't meet anyone else."

"What's he saying?" Mercutio whispered. Benvolio held the phone away from his face.

"He says he didn't meet anyone."

"He what?! Give me that!" Mercutio sat up and snatched the phone out of Benvolio's hand. He tapped on the speaker. "Bonjour, Romeo!"

"Mer- Bonjour? You don't take French class."

"Everyone knows bonjour means hello, crustydick, and I'm saying bonjour because you and your fancy bullshit think you can abandon us."

"Abandon you? When did I do that?"

"When you gave us the slip last night!"

"I did no such thing! You gave me the slip, you and Benvolio, sneaking off to do God knows-" Romeo stopped abruptly. Mercutio could just see him, biting his lip and making a ridiculous unsure face, like he always did when he said things he wasn't supposed to. Romeo was shit at keeping secrets, and it was obvious he didn't want them to think he knew.

"What, Benvolio and I? You're out of your mind, Romeo, your cousin can't stand me."

"Is that what you think? Really?" And now Romeo's voice was excited, like he thought Mercutio was longing wistfully after a boy he didn't know loved him. That was how Romeo thought, he read way to many manga and YA romance novels. Benvolio had once found a paperback about a widow with a ranch house under Romeo's bed.

"No that is not what I really fucking think, Jesus Christ, I know your cousin loves me, this isn't a k-drama."

"You're so mean to me! I don't make fun of you for your Percy Jackson shit-"

Benvolio started cackling. Mercutio elbowed him.

"Percy Jackson is good and I haven't even brought it up in years, oh my God."

"Fine, fine, I'll hop off your dick."

And that was a phrase he'd picked up from Mercutio, that adorable little nerd, but it still was too good of a joke opportunity to pass up. Benvolio was shaking his head but Mercutio ignored him.

"That's not what your cousin said last ni-ight," he said in singsong. Romeo started laughing and then suddenly stopped.

"Oh, wait, seriously?! I don't wanna hear about that! Gross! Come on, you're my best friend, we used to sleep in the same bed! I don't need to hear about your dick parties!"

That's when both Mercutio and Benvolio started howling, because who the fuck says 'dick parties'?

"What's so funny?" Romeo whined.

"D- Dick parties?" Benvolio wheezed.

"Oh my God, is this real? Is this real life and you just really said fucking dick parties? Oh my God! Oh my God, Romeo, Jesus, no! Please!" Mercutio laughed out.

"You guys are assholes."

"Assholes who have dick parties, apparently." Benvolio said.

"Yeah. Gross. Keep- Ugh, now it's like, an image, in my mind, like I have to live the rest of my life with that image in my mind forever."

"Sorry, Romeo." Mercutio said with no remorse whatsoever.

"So are you guys actually..."

Benvolio shook his head, and Mercutio agreed.

"No, I didn't actually give your cousin a hot serving of my dick last night, you can relax," Mercutio said. Benvolio rolled his eyes and kissed the top of Mercutio's head.

"Oh," Romeo said, and he sounded disappointed. What a dork. "Well- I mean, you know, I don't care, right? Like, it's gross to imagine you sticking it to Benvolio or vice versa but, like-"

"I get it, Romeo, you love us no matter what. Come home and maybe we'll have a threeway," he wiggled his eyebrows at Benvolio.

"Absolutely not," Benvolio said immediately. Mercutio grinned and stuck out his tongue.

"Yeah, I'll pass. I am coming home though, I just..."

"You just spent the night in Juliet's room and you guys can't figure a way for you to leave without getting caught?"

"Yeah, this bal- Hey! N-No! I don't- How did you- I never! I don't even know what a Juliet is!" A voice came from behind Romeo and asked "Is that Mercutio?" before taking the phone.

"Hey, Jules."

"Hey, Mercutio. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Sleeping with Romeo's cousin, but we aren't telling him, so keep it hush hush."

"Oh, very nice. Would you mind reminding me how you used to..."

"Of course! If he's in your room, he needs to go out over the balcony and grab the trellis thing on the right, he can get down off that. Then he can go around to where the pool is and find the statue of Hera-"

"Which one is that?"

"Angry looking lady by the bushes with the red flowers. There's a gate right near there, always open."

"You're a prince, darling, absolutely."

"Always the charmer. See you around, Julie T."

"And you, Mercutio. No fair, your name doesn't come apart like mine."

"Yes, but Julie T sounds like someone who's bouta drop the most fire mixtape of the year so don't complain."

Juliet laughed and handed Romeo his phone.

"What the fuck was that?"

"Me and Jules go way back. We have history. Not, like, hot serving of dick history, but friendly history."

"Oh. Whatever. Don't tell on us."

"Oh, yeah, I'm just gonna call up Tybalt and have our weekly best friend gab session and tell him all about you and his cousin. Seriously. Think about who you're talking to."

"Fair. See you at home."

Mercutio hung up and sighed.

"Romeo knows about us." Benvolio said.

"No he doesn't. Juliet does, but she can keep secrets, unlike your chatterbox cousin."

"But he literally-Actually, you're right, we're fine. Should we tell him, though? I feel kinda bad."

"I mean, we could tell him, but everyone would know by the end of the week. And then I'd get kicked out and you'd get kicked out and Tybalt would murder us both and Romeo would feel terrible. So. Maybe we keep quiet for a while."

"Yeah. But just for the record, Tybalt could not murder me. I can and will take the life from that disgusting leech."

"How sweet. My hero," Mercutio crooned.

"And, um, also, I don't want Romeo to think I sleep with guys as soon as they tell me they like me?"

"Well, in your defense, I said I love you, and I only sucked your dick."

Benvolio's face flamed red, and Mercutio laughed. He kissed him on the cheek.

"You self satisfied asshole," Benvolio accused, his ears still burning.

"Oh, relax, my little angry elf," Mercutio rubbed one of Benvolio's ears and kissed him again. "The red face thing is cute."

"Why am I the cute one if I'm supposedly daddy? How does that work? What- Why?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mercutio moved so he was straddling Benvolio's lap. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, daddy."

"Shut your mouth."

"Make. Me."

Benvolio leaned forward into Mercutio's mouth. Mercutio tried to pin him against the side of the bed, but Benvolio was quick and pinned him to the floor first. Mercutio hooked his legs around Ben's waist. Benvolio started a hand up his shirt.

"It's like, ten am," Mercutio breathed.

"Well, daddy says the shirt comes off," Benvolio muttered as he pushed it up more. Mercutio's eyes widened and he laughed as he pulled his shirt the rest of the way off his head.

"I cannot believe you called yourself daddy."

"I..." Benvolio stopped, staring at Mercutio's chest and sitting back.

"Jesus, I know I'm hot, but this is the second time I've made you speechless and it's gonna go to my head," he said as he sat up.

"Mercutio..." Benvolio said quietly, running a hand over a deep white scar that ran straight across the middle of his body. He was covered in tiny scars, some of them puffy and some of them just barely visible lines.

"Oh, those," Mercutio looked down at his chest. "Yeah, well. You didn't think half a broken ribcage, a punctured lung and all that other shit was just gonna leave me perfect, did you?"

"You are perfect," Benvolio kissed him, but it was soft now, and slow.

"You did not just do that cliched line, you did not just tell the obvious sex god with scars that he was perfect," Mercutio said after a minute, because mushy things weren't his deal and Benvolio was being really sweet.

"I did, because he is perfect, and because I know he loves that cliched bullshit."

"Do not."

"You do too, you love generic love story shit, almost as much as Romeo."

"Whatever."

Benvolio paused again and stared at Mercutio, bringing a hand up to hang over his shoulder and the other to caress his face.

"What?" Mercutio asked, and Benvolio was going to make this mushy anyways, God love him, so he might as well lean into it.

"I'm sorry," Benvolio said quietly. Mercutio knitted his brow in confusion.

"For what? It's okay you didn't know about the scars, they don't bother me so I just forgot they were there."

"No, I'm sorry I..." Benvolio trailed off and looked down again, sliding the hand off Mercutio's shoulder and letting it run across his torso. Mercutio was concerned now, because Benvolio had almost made him go to a hospital last night to make sure he was really okay (which didn't work well with his dick in Mercutio's mouth, but it was a valiant effort), but he hadn't said anything about how he was. Benvolio didn't like talking about himself, or his mental state, but he was an expert in all this psychiatric stuff so you had to wonder how many hours he spent worrying over his phone trying to figure out what was wrong with him. Not that Mercutio thought anything was wrong with him.

"What's wrong?" Mercutio nudged Benvolio's neck and gave him a kiss.

"Nothing. You really forget these are here?" He asked without looking away from Mercutio's stomach.

"Yeah. They don't hurt, and I know what happened. I don't, like, look in the mirror and have terrible flashbacks or anything. They're kinda bad ass, really."

Benvolio nodded.

"I don't remember him getting you here," he ran his thumb along a puffy scar in the bottom left of Mercutio's midsection. "Or up here," he moved his hand to a tiny scar under Mercutio's right arm. Mercutio didn't respond. He didn't really think he had to. Benvolio started to say something when the intercom buzzed.

"Guys! I'm home! And I'm really hungry so please come make me some food, please, I brought pancake mix and chocolate chips." Romeo's voice crackled through the room. Mercutio nudged Benvolio's head up and ruffled his hair.

"Come on, Benny baby. Let's go feed the child."

Benvolio smiled and stood up, offering Mercutio a hand.

"Where are my pants?" Mercutio asked when they were both dressed, only he was sans pants.

"Uh... I... Don't remember?"

"We came up here, and- Oh, they're in the rolley chair," he grabbed them off the black desk chair and pulled them on.

"Wait, how did they-"

"Remember, you pushed me against the desk and then you were like are you okay because I'm like a fragile dove or something and I said I was fine and you said damn right I was and then-"

"Okay! I remember!" Benvolio laughed, putting an arm around Mercutio and kissing him on the cheek.

"Ugh, gross, I'm straight!" Mercutio said with faux disgust, wiping Benvolio's kiss off his face.

"No homo?" Benvolio tried.

"Oh, well, as long as it's no homo," Mercutio agreed, kissing Benvolio and pinching his butt. "Bros helping bros."

"Cut it out with the helping or we won't be making it down to the kitchen."

"But daddy, the kitchen isn't where I want to go down to-"

"Call me daddy one more time and I'm-"

"And you're gonna let me fuck you against a wall, daddy?"

"That's it!" Benvolio cried, ignoring the blush in his face as he chased a cackling Mercutio down the stairs.


	8. Chapter 8

By the time they got down the stairs, Benvolio had leapt onto Mercutio's back and had him in a semi-headlock. Mercutio tried to throw him unsuccessfully as he stumbled into the kitchen.

"Uh... Guys?" Romeo asked with a confused and slightly concerned look on his face. They both stopped.

"Mercutio won't stop calling me daddy," Benvolio offered as an explanation.

"Yes, but you're the one who rode me into the kitchen-" Benvolio smacked him upside the head and slid off his back. Mercutio was snickering.

"You two are disgusting. You disgust me. I am disgusted," Romeo said, shaking his head.

"You're just jealous because your best friend doesn't let you do this," Mercutio smacked Benvolio's butt. Benvolio jumped and Mercutio was laughing again.

"Considering that you're my best friend, yeah, I think you would let me do that. Not that I would want to," Romeo added.

"Don't pretend you don't find me irresistible, if you wanna touch my ass all you gotta do is ask," Mercutio winked. Romeo stuck out his tongue, which he did because Mercutio did it all the time, that little nerd.

"Can we just cook? Please?" Benvolio shot Mercutio a look and grabbed the pancake mix off the counter.

"Agreed. What stuff does it use?" Romeo reached up into the cabinet to grab bowls. "I'm freakin' starving."

"Really? Cos I'm kinda thirsty," Mercutio grinned, his eyes flashing mischief. That was the smile of an alligator, Mercutio could charm the pants off- Well. Actually. He had charmed the pants off of Benvolio, so he didn't really have room to complain.

"You are not," Benvolio hissed, trying to sound stern but it came out as a whisper when Mercutio backed him against the island.

"Ben, what do we need?" Romeo asked again, back turned and oblivious to what was going on behind him. Mercutio reached around Benvolio and grabbed the box.

"You need much smaller bowls, for one thing. I'll get the fridge stuff, I'm closer," he leaned off of Benvolio and walked to the fridge. "Eggs... Milk..." he handed them to Ben.

"Grab that mixer thing," Benvolio said, walking over when Romeo gave him a desperate look. "This," he pulled it off the shelf above Romeo's head. "These things are always right above your head, coz," Benvolio ruffled Romeo's hair and smiled.

"Yeah- They are," Romeo said, smiling slowly and pulling out his phone. Mercutio glanced over at him and grinned.

"Are you writing some poetic shit about things being right above your head? Are you putting it on your blog?"

"Shut up, Mercutio, you wouldn't know anything about poetry if fucking Cummings bit you on the ass," Romeo said fiercely.

"You want a man named Cummings to bite me on the ass?" Mercutio asked slowly.

"Ugh. You're- God, Mercutio. You're so gay. Everything is not about dicks and sex all the time."

"Not with that attitude! In fact, let's make these pancakes dick shaped! Right, Ben? Please?" Mercutio turned to Benvolio and gave him a pleading look.

"Fine." Benvolio conceded after a minute. Mercutio whooped and Romeo groaned.

"Dick pancakes! Fine! But you two are doing most of the work, alright? I can't cook," Romeo threw up his hands, and Benvolio nodded in agreement.

"You think I can cook? Is it because I'm black, and you two are- well, you're Portuguese, but you're rich and assuming I know menial skills because I'm middle class is seriously-"

"Cutio?" Benvolio put a hand over his mouth. "Shut up."

"Only if daddy gives me a kiss," he said around Ben's fingers. Benvolio rolled his eyes but gave him a quick peck on the cheek before moving his hand.

"Thanks daddy," Mercutio cooed. "Now give me two eggs and that box. And find a fucking measuring cup! I know there are measuring cups, they're pink with little gold marks and they fit into each other like those dolls-"

"They're down here somewhere," Benvolio said, pushing Mercutio out of the way and bending down to open up one of the cabinets as Romeo handed Mercutio the eggs and pancake mix.

"Romeo, where are those chocolate chips?" Mercutio asked, eyeing Benvolio's ass not-subtly. Romeo was looking at his phone, it didn't matter.

"Uh... In my... I might have left them in the bag."

"Where's the bag?"

"I think I threw it away when I took the box out."

"Go get it." Romeo nodded and walked over to the pink and gold encrusted garbage can at the kitchen entrance. Mercutio took the opportunity to grab Benvolio's butt.

"Cutio," Benvolio sighed, standing up with the measuring cups.

"It was an accident."

"You're still touching it."

"It's still an accident." Benvolio rolled his eyes, and Mercutio moved his hand when Romeo turned back around with a WalMart bag and Nestle chocolate chips. "Okay. Benvolio, crack the eggs into the tiny bowl, I'll do the milk and powder and chocolate stuff. The easy job."

He snatched the chocolate from Romeo. He poured the powder and the milk in the bowl and started jabbing at it with a spoon. Benvolio started cracking eggs, and threw both the shells at Mercutio before putting the eggs in the big bowl.

"That's for calling me daddy earlier."

"Oh yeah?" Mercutio stuck a finger in the batter he was attempting to make un-lumpy and whipped a glob of it at Benvolio. "That's for- Um, for being a dick."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah," Mercutio started flicking chocolate chips at him.

"Hey! Don't waste my chocolate!" Romeo snapped without looking up from his phone.

"Still writing that poem, Hemingway?" Mercutio said with a smirk.

"Still ruining those pancakes, Macklemore?"

Mercutio started to respond and then stopped. He turned and gave Romeo a questioning look with his face all pulled together.

"Macklemore?" He asked slowly. Romeo shrugged.

"It was all I could come up with. And he's gay, right? Isn't he?"

"Nope." Benvolio sighed, working on the batter Mercutio had abandoned.

"Yeah, he's also white and a terrible rapper, and has kids, and is like thirty," Mercutio said, still making a face at Romeo.

"I thought he was gay. Wow."

"Why would you choose a random gay guy to represent me? I'm not gay!"

Romeo and Benvolio both stopped and looked at him.

"What? I'm not!" Mercutio protested with a laugh. "Why do you just assume that?"

"Because you talk about dicks constantly?" Romeo tried.

"Girls can have dicks!"

"I- Because you said you were gay?!"

"I say a lot of things! I told your mom I was doing homework when I was really drawing stick figures having sex in all your textbooks."

"I knew that was you!" Romeo pointed at him sternly.

"Not the point! I'm not gay." Mercutio said, putting his hands up in surrender.

"That's not what Tybalt says," Romeo muttered.

The whole kitchen froze. The air was so thick you couldn't cut it with a steak knife. Nobody breathed. The heavy tension settled, and sat like a spell cast on all the pink and gold. The way the house looked like the inside of a cake that usually comforted Mercutio had turned sinister and was giving him a headache. He was the first one to move.

"What?" He said, louder than he had thought his voice would be. It rang through the sickly sweet kitchen.

"He didn't mean anything by it," Benvolio started, shooting deadly looks at Romeo.

"No, seriously, what's he mean?" Mercutio turned to look at Benvolio. Ben didn't say anything. "What do you mean?" Mercutio turned to Romeo now.

"Cutio-" Benvolio grabbed his arm lightly, and Mercutio yanked away without meaning to. Reflexes. Romeo winced and looked back and forth between his cousin and his best friend. Mercutio was giving Benvolio a slightly confused but mostly scared expression, while Benvolio was trying to worm his way out of this conversation with his eyes.

Romeo figured he'd better start talking.

"What's interesting about what he said earlier about things being above my head is that Juliet was on her balcony when I met her, so, right above my head. I'm gonna call it Looking Up, or m-"

"What's he saying?" Mercutio asked quietly. Romeo faltered.

"Its- After you two left last night, he started- You know how he is, he just likes to get people to pay attention to him. He was totally-"

"What did he say, Romeo?" Benvolio asked, turning on his cousin. Romeo had mentioned none of this to him. He'd thought maybe his cousin had just pieced things together and accidentally let that slip, but this was something else.

"Well he started like yelling, after you left, saying someone had broken in, and Juliet and his emo friends were like, the only people who paid attention, because nobody gives a shit when he's not at school. And so we went over there, and Juliet was like, what are you screaming about, and he was like, Mercutio and his boyfriend just broke in, and then he started rambling about- Like-" Romeo struggled, avoiding the looks of the boys in the room with him. "Just made up stuff. Like, how you, uh, had sex with our math teacher? For a grade? And, um... That you and he, like... Um... At a Chili's..."

Mercutio suddenly started snickering.

"What?" Romeo asked, rightly startled. Benvolio shook his head and mouthed 'he does this sometimes' at his cousin.

"A fucking Chili's? Is that what he said? Really?" He shook his head. "I have class, thank you. A fucking- Oh, that's rich from the kid who told me he put a cucumber in his ass once. That's fucking funny."

"He what?!"

"He was in the eighth grade, I'm sure he didn't actually do it, but he made a big deal out of it. Like fitting a cucumber in his ass was the shit. And he was the one who wanted to get with Mr. Shaughnessy! That guy was like 40, I don't wanna get with that."

"So you're not..." Benvolio asked slowly. "You're okay?"

"Oh, like anyone's gonna believe the drunk scene boy screaming about me being gay at a party. He's just jealous cause he thinks I'm banging you. He wishes he could ever get with this hot piece of-"

"Alright," Benvolio interrupted him before he got lewd. They were all also going to pretend he hadn't dated Tybalt, it seemed, which was just as well.

"You are gay, though, right?" Romeo asked.

"Hm? Oh, fuck yeah. Well. I'm pan-sexual, but. Majorly dudes."

"Then what the fuck-!" Romeo threw his hands up. "Jesus!"

"I don't like it when you assume I'm gay just because I-"

"Because you make obscene daddy jokes and talk about being thirsty constantly, and flirt with the male cashiers, and at least once a day call yourself queerer than something?" Benvolio listed off, giving him a condemning look. Mercutio nudged him with his shoulder and stuck out his tongue.

"Yeah. All that. Did you finish?" He pointed at the bowl of pancake batter.

"I think so," Benvolio said warily.

"If it's bad we can just give them to our dear friend Tybalt." He grabbed the bowl and turned to the stove before pausing. "We forgot pans."

"Well we have you, so there's one," Benvolio smirked. Mercutio snorted, because puns are never not funny. Benvolio grabbed two pink pans off the hanging rack and put them on burners. Mercutio turned them on and started carefully pouring batter, attempting to make phallic shapes.

"I can't believe I'm going to eat dick," Romeo shook his head.

"Wouldn't be the worst thing you've ever put in your mouth," Benvolio said drily.

"Sadly, that is true."

"Remember when you ate an entire bottle of ketchup?" Mercutio asked without turning around. "And when we put boiled eggs in the blender with milk?"

"I was drunk! Mercutio's the one who eats-" Romeo started.

"Nutella on lettuce," Benvolio nodded sadly. "Disgusting."

"I also eat bacon and tomato sandwiches with marshmallow fluff," Mercutio said proudly.

"Why?!" Romeo asked, making gagging sounds.

"Because when I'm eating you out-"

"Stop," Benvolio said in monotone. Mercutio turned to wink.

"-of house and home, I eat the things you won't miss. Cause I know you two don't care about vegetables-"

"I do-"

"-except you, Ben, yes, and the marshmallow fluff is mine. I make your mum get it."

"Can you get her to get my fucking carrots?"

"I mean... I could, but it'll cost you."

"I'm not doing sexual favors for carrots, Mercutio."

"Then what good are you?!"

"Do you need some help with your penises?" Benvolio looked at the sad pancake penises on the stove.

"Pancake dicks are hard," Mercutio pouted. "Like my dick. Hard. Get it?"

"Very funny. It's not that hard."

"Pancake dicks or my dick? Cause I can-"

"The pancakes, dork. Here," Ben moved his arms behind Mercutio's and guided his movements. "You were wasting batter."

"I want them to be big."

"Doesn't everyone?" Benvolio sighed. Mercutio smiled. He let Benvolio do the rest of the work, leaning back into him and staring at the side of his face as he made artful penises on the stove. Romeo pretended not to notice them- or maybe he didn't, he was texting Juliet and there was a good chance he had no idea what was going on outside of that.

When they finished making pancakes, Mercutio insisted on taking a thousand photos and selfies with and of the breakfast penises. Romeo left the room when Mercutio started throwing them in the air and trying to catch them in his mouth.

"Party pooper!" Mercutio called, tossing another in the air and cursing when it landed on his forehead instead of in his mouth. After three more tries, he finally managed to get it in his mouth. He stood up straight, eyes wide and whooping victoriously around his mouthful of pancake dick. He turned to Benvolio excitedly. He was practically jumping up and down.

"Did you see that shit?! I caught it! I got it! It went right into my mouth that time! Did you see it Ben?!"

Benvolio was just staring at him, with this look on his face that Mercutio couldn't place. Amazement? Probably. He was pretty amazing.

"Did you see?" He asked again, still smiling, as he swallowed the last of it. "I caught it."

"I saw," Benvolio said, blinking away the look on his face and replacing it with a grin. "I'm so proud of you."

"Awww, really daddy?"

Benvolio crossed over to Mercutio and kissed him, ignoring the 'daddy' comment.

"I should catch food in my mouth more often," Mercutio mumbled. They were both still smiling. Benvolio kissed him again. And again. And again. "Your cousin is still in the living room."

"I know," Benvolio said lightly, kissing him again. Mercutio looked at him for a moment. Maybe it was all the sunlight from the window, maybe it was the kitschy kitchen, maybe it was just him being delusional, but Benvolio looked like such a freaking angel.

Later, when they were playing video games, Benvolio looked at him the way he did in the kitchen, and Mercutio placed it that time. Benvolio looked at him like that when he was doing things- ridiculous things, average Mercutio things. He'd done it when Mercutio used condoms as finger puppets and he did it when Mercutio slid over the hood of his car and he did it when Mercutio sang too loudly with the radio because Taylor Swift was impossible not to sing with.

Benvolio was looking at him like he loved him.

And Mercutio pretended he had to use the bathroom so that nobody would know he had started to cry when someone loved him.


	9. Chapter 9

Mercutio and Benvolio are dating.

Mercutio was having a hard time believing this. He kept thinking he was gonna wake up and realize it was just an elaborate dream, but so far that hadn't happened. He'd decided that if it was a dream, there was no way in Hell he was waking up. He thought it might literally kill him, to have this taken away.

They'd kept their relationship a secret for a whole seven days now, which was a feat worthy of awards in Mercutio's mind. He definitely deserved a medal for being able to keep his hands off Benvolio for 10 hours a day. It was a fucking Olympic trial, trying to resist the urge to hold his hand or kiss him. Benvolio complained of similar struggles, which made him grin. He took pride in being adored. He wanted to scream, 'BENVOLIO MONTAGUE IS MY FUCKING BOYFRIEND! BENVOLIO MONTAGUE LOVES ME!'. But he knew there was no way he could do that. Neither of them could tell anyone. People couldn't know. If they knew, if they knew, if they knew...

The fear really helped to keep him in check. He would think about grabbing Benvolio's hand, or kissing him between classes, and then he would immediately think about Paris, or Tybalt, and what would happen.

Juliet and Romeo were keeping up a secret romance as well, but Romeo was abysmal at being aloof. Juliet was sneaky enough that if anything, people just thought Romeo had a crush on her, but that was still a little risky for Romeo. God forbid Tybalt find out. Benvolio suggested they get him a fake girlfriend for show, but Romeo shot that down. Mercutio suggested that he pretend to date Juliet for show, but everyone agreed that was an awful idea. Though he and Juliet thought it was pretty funny.

Juliet Capulet was honestly the coolest girl Mercutio knew. She was a genius, and she was gorgeous, and she was dating his best friend, which are the three best qualities a person can have. Those, and buying him candy, which Juliet also did. She convinced Romeo that they need Benvolio and Mercutio as cover when they went out on dates, 'because if it was just us alone people would get suspicious, but if it's four people no one notices', so that Merc and Ben could have secret dates too. She was excellent. Mercutio couldn't have asked for a better partner in crime.

Tonight was the first trial of the secret date system, and the destination they had decided on was a bowling alley, a few miles out of town. Because who doesn't love the 80s, right?

"I am going to destroy all of you," Mercutio warned at lunch, as he picked the marshmallows out of a pink tupperware container of Lucky Charms. Romeo rolled his eyes, and Mercutio flicked his forehead. "I am. You wait."

"He is very good," Juliet conceded.

"I'll say," Benvolio agreed, sliding his hand up Mercutio's thigh under the table. Mercutio's face betrayed nothing. He was very good at disguising emotions, a skill that came in handy literally all of the time, but especially now that he had an underground lover.

"You two always take his side," Romeo pouted.

"Because my side is the best side. The winning side. Like Nationwide."

"What does that even mean?"

"Nationwide. Their slogan- Nationwide is on your side? I thought that was fairly obvious."

Benvolio and Juliet nodded, which frustrated Romeo to no end.

"Again! On his side! Traitors!"

"He's just really charismatic," Juliet shrugged. Romeo whined.

"Suck a dick about it, buddy. I'm great at bowling, great at jokes, and everyone likes me the most."

"I hope you choke on your Lucky Charms."

"Impossible. Benvolio eats all the hard parts."

"You bet I do," Benvolio smirked, grabbing a piece of cereal and wiggling his eyebrows.

"I love it when you eat my hard parts, daddy."

"Why am I still daddy?!" He exclaimed. Mercutio put a hand under the table and laced his fingers with Benvolio's.

"Because you have a daddy vibe."

"What exactly is a daddy vibe? How does one cultivate a daddy vibe?" Juliet asked bemusedly. Mercutio grinned and leaned in.

"Well I'm so glad you asked, Julie T, it's a fascinating-"

"Dear God, can I just die already?" Romeo groaned.

"Yes," Mercutio replied instantly, which sent Juliet and Benvolio and eventually Romeo into hysterics.

"I will concede," Romeo finally sighed, "That you are gifted in comedy."

"And other things," Benvolio muttered, squeezing Mercutio's hand.

Mercutio grinned. He _was_ gifted, alright- Gifted with a boyfriend like Benvolio.

 

 

 

"Recognize anyone?" Benvolio asked as they entered the bowling alley around eight. They all did a quick scan of the building.

It was a fairly typical bowling alley, twenty or so lanes, a counter for shoes, an arcade in the back, a crappy food counter that served almost exclusively beer and burgers. There were neon lights on the faded red walls spelling out things like 'STRIKE!' and 'BOWL!' that flickered on occasion. It had two gumball machines and six of those crappy toy machines that dispensed things like Chinese finger traps and plastic rings. The old carpet, patterned with green and blue diamonds, was spotted with suspicious stains. The patrons were mostly adults, who came to get an hour of quasi-peace while their kids blew all their cash in the arcade playing deer hunting and skee ball. It smelled like fried food, dust, and Lysol. The staff looked like they wanted to die.

"Nope," Juliet said. "We should fine."

"See, I told you guys I could've worn my poodle skirt!" Mercutio half joked. He did have a poodle skirt, but wearing it in public wasn't really a good idea.

"I would have loved to see that," Juliet smiled. "I could've worn mine, we would be twins."

"No one would be able to tell us apart. I can't even tell us apart now."

"Come on, Mercutio, let's get you some shoes," Benvolio grinned, grabbing Juliet's hand and walking her to the shoe counter. Mercutio threw his arm around Romeo and snickered.

"Looks like I'm your Juliet."

"What an honor it is," Romeo said wistfully.

After they'd gotten their shoes (all of them coincidentally matching in red and white stripes) they found a lane and began entering names. Julie and Romeo fit on the board, but Mercutio wasn't going to fit, so he put 'ass' as his name instead. Juliet pointed out that he could've put Merc, or Cutio, but he ignored her, as he was wont to do. Instead of putting Ben for Benvolio, he put 'daddy', but no one was going to argue that. Benvolio just sighed in exasperation and accepted his title. Then they picked out balls, and Mercutio made about a billion ball jokes until Romeo literally almost killed him.

"Maybe I could use your head, Romeo. Let me see if my fingers fit in your nose," Mercutio reached out toward his face, and Romeo backed away.

"You're terrible."

"I know, I know. Here, take you ball," Mercutio handed him a red bowling ball. "Benny, would you like me to finger your ball?"

"Of course, honeybuns, but we're in public. I think that's illegal."

Juliet snorted. Romeo made a gagging noise.

"Are you choking on balls, Romeo?" Mercutio asked. "Because someone with your experience on that shouldn't-"

"Alright! Can we just bowl, so I can kick your ass?"

"As his highness wishes," Mercutio flourished dramatically and grabbed a bright pink bowling ball. "Game on."

Mercutio and Romeo went back to the lane. Benvolio gave a low whistle.

"Romeo is gonna get destroyed," he said sadly.

"I don't think there was any way around that," Juliet sighed, picking up her ball.

"Shall we?" Benvolio grabbed a ball and extended his elbow.

"We shall," Juliet threaded her arm through his and they skipped over to the other two.

Romeo hit three pins during his first turn, Juliet and Benvolio got spares, and Mercutio got a strike. Mercutio got strikes for his first four turns, and Romeo almost lost his mind. By the end of the game, Romeo was last and Mercutio was first, over 400 points separating them.

"You cheat!" Romeo exclaimed.

"How? How did I cheat at _bowling_?"

"I don't know, but you cheat!"

"Did I use magic? Did I use mind control on the bowling ball?"

"Yes! You cheated! You used a cheating ball or something!"

"Even if I cheated, you still got wrecked by Julie and Benny."

"I- You- Cheat. Cheater."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, buddy," Mercutio laughed. "I wanna play arcade games."

"Me too," Benvolio said.

"Why don't you and I play another game while those two waste money on pinball?" Juliet cooed. Romeo nodded.

"I'll let you win," he said, although everyone knew he wouldn't be 'letting' her win.

"What a gentleman," Juliet giggled. Benvolio and Mercutio got up and entered the arcade, which was occupied by a two little boys and a middle school girl. They were focused entirely on the the Spiderman pinball machine, the older girl playing as the two younger boys watched the lights and sounds go off every time the ball hit something. Mercutio searched the room and lit up when he spotted a Pacman game, because Pacman games are his absolute favorite. They're the best. You get to eat stuff for points and you run from ghosts, what's not to love?

"Pacman!" He exclaimed, hopping a little as he made his way to the console. Benvolio laughed. "Gimme some quarters, sugar daddy."

"Sure thing, sugar baby."

Mercutio put the quarters in and began playing. Benvolio slid his hands in Mercutio's pockets and nestled his chin in Mercutio's shoulder.

"It okay if I watch?" He asked.

"I perform best with an audience, especially one that's so handsome."

"Oh, flatterer," Benvolio placed a kiss on his jaw.

Mercutio could have stayed like that forever. The happiest he could ever be was playing Pacman in a dirty arcade with the boy who loved him. Paris and Tybalt couldn't find him here. He didn't have to worry about people seeing them, or people knowing. He didn't have to think about anything but eating the tiny animated fruits, avoiding the tiny animated ghosts, and the way Benvolio's head fit so perfectly on his shoulder.

"You are a Pacman savant," Benvolio stated when Mercutio finally died. He pulled his hands out of Mercutio's pockets so he could turn around.

"I trained for years at the Pacman Institute of Excellence," Mercutio said. Benvolio smiled and kissed him gently, and some of his hair tickled the side of Mercutio's face. "Am I dreaming?"

"No," Benvolio put his arms around Mercutio's waist and leaned into him against the Pacman machine. "Am I?"

"No. Or maybe we both are."

"I'd kill whoever woke me up from this."

Mercutio leaned up and kissed him.

"Me too."

"But I don't think we're dreaming."

"Neither do I."

"I'm pretty confident this is real."

"And I'm pretty confident we should be kissing. Just to make sure it's real."

"Oh, of course. That's the best way to make sure."

They made out of the Pacman machine for ten minutes or so, before Juliet came and informed them that it was time to go. Sweet Juliet, protecting their secret and giving them time alone. Bless her. Mercutio and Benvolio rejoined Juliet and Romeo, they all returned their shoes, and they were about to leave when Benvolio suddenly asked them to wait a minute and walked back toward the arcade.

"Forgot my phone," he said when he returned. They walked to the parking lot and Benvolio slowed his pace, so that he and Mercutio would fall behind Juliet and Romeo.

"What's up?" Mercutio asked, knowing Benvolio didn't forget his phone.

"For my prince," he smiled, and he placed a plastic toy machine egg in Mercutio's hand. It had a plastic mood ring in it, and the mood part was shaped like a bunch of grapes.

Mercutio was silent. He didn't know what to say. Benvolio couldn't begin to realize how much the plastic ring meant to him.

"Grapes? Because Pacman eats fruit? And also you're super moody and it's a mood ring," Benvolio explained. "And it's unique. Also like you."

Mercutio pulled Benvolio to a stop and kissed him, hoping he wouldn't taste the salt from the tears that were quietly leaking down his face. He slid the egg in his pocket.

"I love you," he said quietly, holding Benvolio's head in his hands and trying to convey how he felt. "You mean so much to me."

"I love you too," Benvolio replied softly, wiping at one of Mercutio's cheeks and giving him another kiss. "You okay?"

"Yes," Mercutio said, and for the first time in he didn't even know how long, he meant it. "God, yes, finally."

"You sure? You're crying," Benvolio wiped at Mercutio's face again, and in the limited light of the parking lot Mercutio could see the concerned look on his face.

"Because I'm okay," he whispered, and he started crying a little harder. He leaned into Benvolio's shoulder and gripped at the bottom of his shirt. "I'm really okay."

He was okay. And that was all he had ever wanted to be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... sorry it took me like, almost a whole year to update this? The past few months have been messy and all over. But hey, better late than never, right? I'll try to update regularly from now on. <3


	10. this is not a chapter

I might update this soon if I get time and motivation. Only for my girl Isis will I update this fic.


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